//* 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 


UNIV.  OF  CALTF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGKLKS 


WHEN  THOUGHTS 
WILL  SOAR 

A  Romance  of  the  Immediate  Future 

BY 

BARONESS  BERTHA  VON  SUTTNER 

Author  of  "  Lay  down  your  Arms  " 


TRANSLATED  BY 
NATHAN  HASKELL  DOLE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

«?"$  Cambribge 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  1914,  BY  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  June  IQI+ 


CONTENTS 

PRELUDE       3 

I.  FRANKA  GARLETT 6 

II.  CHLODWIG  HELMER .      .31 

III.  FRANKA'S  NEW  HOME    .      .      .      .      .      .      .39 

IV.  LIFE  IN  SlELENBURG  CASTLE 46 

INTERMEZZO 63 

V.  COUNT  SIELEN'S  WILL 68 

VI.  A  SECOND  ANONYMOUS  MESSAGE     .      .      .'     .    82 

VII.  FRANKA'S  SALON 98 

VIII.  THE  OUTLINES  OF  A  GREAT  PLAN   .      .      .      .112 

IX.  FRANKA'S  DEBUT  AND  CAREER 122 

X.  AT  LUCERNE 139 

XI.  AN  EVENING  IN  THE  ROSE-PALACE  .      .      .      .152 
XII.  MR.  TOKER'S  ILLUSTRIOUS  GUESTS        .      .      .  165 

XIII.  A  LUNCHEON  PARTY 177 

XIV.  DREAMS  OF  LOVE 187 

XV.  RINOTTI  AND  PRINCE  VICTOR  ADOLPH    .      .      .198 

XVI.  THE  SIELENBURG  PARTY 209 

XVII.  THE  OPENING  NIGHT 218 

XVIII.  FRANKA'S  LECTURE 233 

XIX.  YE  YOUNG  MAIDENS,  LISTEN  TO  ME       ...  243 

XX.  ANOTHER  LETTER  FROM  CHLODWIG  HELMER       .  257 

XXI.  NEW  WONDERS 271 


2133329 


CONTENTS 

XXII.  CHLODWIG  HELMER'S  LECTURE:  THE  CONQUEST 

OF  THE  AIR 288 

XXIII.  A  COZY  SUPPER 311 

XXIV.  SUNDRY  CONVERSATIONS 323 

XXV.  SCENES  OF  BEAUTY  AND  OF  LOVE  ....  352 

XXVI.  CLOUDS  ON  THE  HORIZON 365 

XXVII.  SPEECHES  AND  LETTERS 378 

XXVIII.  A  CORNUCOPIA  FULL  OF  GIFTS       ....  399 

XXIX.  FRANKA  DECIDES  HER  FATE      .     •     .      .      .415 

FINALE 435 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 


WHEN  THOUGHTS 
WILL  SOAR 

PRELUDE 

MR.  JOHN  A.  TOKER,  the  American  multimillionaire, 
flung  down  his  newspaper  in  some  excitement  and 
became  lost  in  thought. 

The  paragraph  that  had  so  agitated  him  read :  — 

"The  sovereign  expressed  to  Count  Zeppelin  his 
regret  at  being  unable  on  this  occasion  to  see  the  air 
ship  which,  he  was  convinced,  was  destined  to  fur 
nish  the  weapon  of  the  heights  in  future  wars." 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  little  old  gentleman 
remained  absorbed  in  his  reflections;  then  he  seized 
pen  and  paper  and  made  various  notes.  He  was  evi 
dently  drafting  a  rather  complicated  plan.  He  now 
and  again  ran  his  pen  through  what  he  had  written 
and  substituted  other  words.  One  sheet  was  filled 
with  a  list  of  names  —  the  names  of  distinguished 
contemporaries;  another  with  figures,  apparently  a 
schedule  of  estimated  expenses,  in  which  the  individ 
ual  items  for  the  most  part  had  five  or  six  numerals. 

Even  after  an  hour  the  plan  was  not  as  yet  near 
completion,  but  Mr.  Toker  was  compelled  to  inter 
rupt  his  labors  in  order  to  take  up  with  other  de 
mands  of  the  day.  One  of  his  secretaries,  who  had 
made  a  careful  preliminary  sifting  of  the  letters  and 

3 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

dispatches  brought  by  the  morning's  mail,  came 
with  such  as  he  had  found  important  enough  to  be 
called  to  his  master's  attention. 

Mr.  Toker  dictated  various  answers.  When  this 
correspondence  was  cleared  away,  a  host  of  other 
affairs  required  his  consideration :  —  business  con 
nected  with  the  management  of  his  property ;  reports 
from  the  many  concerns  in  which  he  was  interested ; 
audiences  with  the  foremen  of  his  enormous  landed 
estate,  his  farmers  and  agents.  Moreover,  the  guests 
at  the  castle  and  the  members  of  his  family  could  not 
be  neglected,  and  sport  and  exercise  were  necessary 
to  maintain  his  physical  elasticity,  while  for  the  sat 
isfaction  of  his  intellectual  cravings  reading  in  many 
fields  had  to  be  provided  for  —  indeed,  the  multimil 
lionaire  frequently  found  it  exasperating  to  realize 
that  one  man  might  be  richer  than  others  in  money, 
but  not  in  time;  one  may  have  thousands  of  dollars 
to  spend  every  hour,  but  not  more  than  sixteen  wak 
ing  hours  to  spend  in  a  day. 

"Money  is  a  great  help  in  accomplishing  big 
things,"  Mr.  Toker  used  to  say  with  a  sigh,  "but 
mostly  those  things  require  much  time,  and  in  this 
respect  I  feel  that  I  am  a  very  poor  fellow." 

Several  weeks  passed  without  the  American 
Croesus  being  able  to  proceed  with  the  elaboration 
of  his  project.  But  he  carried  round  with  him  the 
idea  that  lay  at  the  foundation  of  it.  In  his  mind  one 
thought  gave  birth  to  another;  visions  arose  without 
any  definite  outlines ;  suggestions  flashed  through  his 
brain,  but  served  only  as  reminders  of  things  that 
might  later  become  clear. 

4 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

When  he  again  took  up  the  notes  that  he  had 
made,  he  canceled  several  names  from  the  list  and 
added  new  ones.  It  was  a  varied  assortment  of  from 
thirty  to  forty  of  his  contemporaries:  Bjornson, 
Maurice  Maeterlinck,  Eleanora  Duse,  Elihu  Root, 
the  American  statesman;  Madame  Curie,  the  dis 
coverer  of  radium;  Nansen,  the  Arctic  explorer; 
Prince  Albert  of  Monaco,  the  oceanographic  scien 
tist;  Tolstoi,  Marconi,  and  many  great  men  from  the 
scientific  world,  who  had  won  distinction  as  path 
finders  in  the  domain  of  philosophy,  sociology,  his 
tory,  and  natural  science. 

He  also  went  over  the  sheet  with  the  numbers,  and 
added  a  cipher  in  many  cases.  Thus,  for  example, 
the  item  of  "  Roses,"  which  had  been  set  down  at  ten 
thousand  francs,  he  increased  to  a  hundred  thou 
sand.  Moreover,  the  word  " roses"  frequently  ap 
peared  in  his  notes,  and  the  thought  of  those  queenly 
flowers  seemed  especially  to  impress  itself  on  his 
mind,  for  the  pencilings  which  he  made  on  the  edge 
of  the  paper,  as  he  strove  to  catch  an  idea,  portrayed 
very  clearly,  even  if  inartistically,  the  forms  of  roses 
and  rosebuds. 

One  sheet  was  filled  with  catchwords  the  meaning 
of  which  to  one  uninitiated  would  have  been  scarcely 
comprehensible:  as,  for  instance,  "Concentration 
and  accumulation  of  forces.  Motion  through  explo 
sions.  Agglomeration  of  scattered  atoms.  Energy 
radiating  in  all  directions.  Roses,  roses  .  .  .  the 
Power  of  Beauty.  Subjugation  of  the  forces  of  Na 
ture.  High  flying.  Revelations.  New  lights,  new 
tones,  new  thoughts,  moss  roses  ..." 


CHAPTER  I 

FRANKA   GARLETT 

A  YOUNG  girl  stepped  out  of  the  gate  of  the  Central 
Cemetery  of  Vienna.  For  almost  eight  weeks  she  had 
been  going  there  to  lay  a  few  flowers  on  her  father's 
grave.  That  dearly  beloved  parent  had  been  her  only 
stay  in  this  world,  and  he  had  been  so  unexpectedly 
and  prematurely  snatched  away  from  her!  Frank 
Garlett  had  reached  only  the  age  of  forty-five.  His 
sudden  death  had  resulted  from  an  accident:  he 
had  fallen  from  the  running-board  of  a  tram-car,  had 
rolled  under  the  wheels,  and,  severely  injured,  had 
been  brought  to  his  dwelling  by  the  Rescue  Society, 
and  there  a  few  hours  later  he  had  breathed  his  last 
in  the  arms  of  his  daughter,  who  was  half-crazed  with 
terror  and  grief. 

Franka  walked  slowly  and  wearily  home  from  the 
cemetery.  Her  lodgings,  her  empty,  orphaned  lodg 
ings,  were  not  far  distant.  Behind  her,  with  steps 
equally  slow,  strode  a  man  who  had  caught  sight  of 
her  at  the  cemetery  gate,  and,  dazzled  by  her  bril 
liant  youthful  beauty,  which  betrayed  itself  in  spite 
of  her  paleness  and  the  traces  of  tears,  was  now  fol 
lowing  her  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  who  she 
was.  He  was  an  elderly  man  of  distinguished  ap 
pearance. 

As  Franka  entered  the  front  door,  he  also  paused 
there,  but  did  not  venture  to  address  her.  He 

6 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

merely  went  to  the  porter's  door  and  rang  the  bell. 
A  buxom  woman  came  out  and  greeted  him :  — 

"What  is  it  you  wish?" 

"I  should  like  to  make  an  inquiry;  please  allow 
me  to  come  in." 

The  woman  moved  aside  and  allowed  the  stranger 
to  pass  in.  He  sat  down  in  an  armchair,  took  out  of 
his  pocket  his  portemonnaie,  and  handed  the  woman 
a  ten-crown  note. 

"Tell  me,  who  the  young  lady  is  who  just  entered 
this  house,  dressed  in  deep  mourning.  And  give  me 
all  the  information  you  can  about  her." 

"Oh,  she?  .  .  .  She's  a  Miss  Garlett  —  yes,  a 
pretty  lass,  but  a  poor  little  body!  Her  father  died 
not  long  ago,  and  now  she's  all  alone.  .  .  .  She  was 
almost  beside  herself  with  grief  when  they  took  him 
away.  Now  she 's  a  bit  calmer.  Every  day  she  goes 
out  and  visits  him  in  the  graveyard,  but  otherwise 
she  never  goes  out  and  no  one  comes  to  see  her.  And 
no  one  came  to  see  them  when  the  old  gentleman  — 
in  fact,  he  was  not  old  —  was  alive.  You  see  he  met 
with  an  accident  —  fell  off  the  electric.  When  they 
brought  him  in  .  .  ." 

"Who  and  what  was  Mr.  Garlett?"  asked  the 
other,  interrupting  her. 

"A  professor,  or  a  philosopher,  or  something  like 
that.  He  gave  lessons.  That  was  how  he  earned 
their  living,  I  reckon.  I'd  like  to  know  what  the 
poor  little  lass  will  have  to  live  on  now.  The  rent  is 
soon  due,  and  it  was  always  a  hard  pull  to  pay  the 
rent.  .  .  .  The  two  had  to  be  mighty  thrifty.  They 
had  only  one  old  woman  who  used  to  come  in  every 

7 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

day  to  help,  and  they  only  nibbled  —  like  sparrows. 
But  books!  their  rooms  were  just  piled  up  with 
'em!  He  must  have  been  a  real  bookworm,  the  poor 
gentleman!  and  the  little  one  used  to  be  reading 
all  the  time,  too.  .  .  .  The  only  luxury  they  ever 
allowed  themselves  was  to  go  three  or  four  times  a 
month  to  the  fourth  gallery  of  the  opera  house  or  to 
the  Burg  Theater.  But  they  were  n't  never  down  in 
the  mouth,  neither  of  'em,  in  spite  of  all  the  worry 
and  their  little  money;  on  the  contrary,  they  were 
as  gay  as  larks  —  especially  the  lassie.  We  always 
heard  her  laughing  and  singing  in  her  room,  though 
outside,  to  be  sure,  she  was  always  serious  and,  so  to 
say,  a  bit  haughty;  perhaps  she  inherited  a  bit  of 
haughtiness  from  her  departed  mamma." 

"Was  Mr.  Garlett  a  widower,  and  how  long  had 
he  been?" 

"Oh,  for  fifteen  years  or  so.  That  was  quite  a 
romance.  His  wife  was  a  count's  daughter,  it  seems. 
He  had  been  private  tutor  to  her  brother  at  a  cas 
tle  :  the  young  lady  fell  in  love  with  him  —  he  was 
a  handsome  fellow  —  indeed,  he  was.  They  eloped 
and  were  married.  The  parents  —  mighty  stuck-up 
folks  they  was  —  was  furious  and  put  a  curse  on 
their  daughter." 

"Ah,  my  dear  lady,  that  only  happens  in  old- 
fashioned  novels:  parents  cursing  their  children." 

"I  don't  know  nothing  about  these  things,  but 
this  much  I  know,  they  would  n't  have  anything 
more  to  do  with  her;  never  gave  her  no  money, 
sent  back  all  her  letters,  and  the  dainty  young  lady, 
who  all  her  life  had  ridden  in  kerridges  and  had  her 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

pony  and  ate  nothin'  but  cakes  and  ice  cream,  and 
al'ays  had  noblemen  dancing  attendance  on  her, 
—  for  she  was  heiress  to  a  great  estate  and  was 
as  pretty  as  a  picture, — just  like  her  daughter,  so 
folks  says,  —  well,  she  could  n't  stand  poverty  and 
living  among  common  people,  and  so  she  just  up 
and  died  when  her  little  girl  was  only  five  years 
old." 

The  stranger  arose.  "I  thank  you;  I  have  all  the 
information  I  wish." 

Franka  climbed  the  stairs  up  to  her  rooms,  which 
were  situated  on  the  fourth  story.  Painfully,  cling 
ing  to  the  banister,  often  pausing  to  get  her  breath, 
which  always  seemed  to  die  away  in  a  trembling 
sigh,  she  made  her  way  up.  The  deepest  sigh  she 
drew  as  she  opened  the  door  and  entered  the  ante 
room.  The  anteroom?  Really  the  kitchen;  but  the 
kitchen  hearth  was  hidden  by  a  screen.  The  place 
was  rather  dark  and  chilly.  It  was  April,  and  the 
weather  was  still  pretty  cold. 

Franka  passed  through  this  place  and  pushed 
open  the  door  of  a  front  room :  her  bedroom.  Here  it 
was  brighter  and  more  comfortable.  The  furnish 
ings  were  to  the  last  degree  simple,  not  to  say 
shabby,  and  yet  a  certain  something  in  the  arrange 
ment  of  the  furniture,  in  the  articles  and  trinkets 
disposed  on  the  tables  and  the  walls,  betrayed  a 
taste  for  elegance. 

She  laid  aside  her  hat  and  cloak  and  opened  the 
door  into  the  adjacent  room,  which  had  served  her 
and  her  departed  father  as  sitting-room  and  dining- 

9 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

room,  as  study-  and  music-room.  The  door  leading 
into  still  another  contiguous  chamber  was  closed. 
That  was  the  room  where  Garlett  had  slept  and 
dressed,  and  where  he  had  died.  Franka  glanced  into 
it  —  as  she  always  did  when  she  returned,  as  if  to 
give  a  mute  greeting  to  the  place  where  she  had  last 
seen  the  beloved  form  of  the  departed,  cold  in  death; 
then  she  softly  closed  the  door  again  with  a  reverent 
gesture,  crossed  the  sitting-room,  and  stretched  her 
self  out  on  the  sofa  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  —  half 
lamentation,  half  ease. 

She  was  so  weary,  so  weary  in  body  and  soul  at 
this  moment,  that  the  goad  of  her  grief  began  to 
vanish  from  her  consciousness,  and  she  experienced 
only  a  kind  of  over-saturation  of  pain  and  a  keen 
sense  of  yearning  for  rest.  She  drew  over  her  chilly 
limbs  the  skin  rug  that  lay  on  the  sofa  and  banished 
all  thought  and  feeling;  she  wished  only  to  breathe 
and  rest. 

She  was  not  sleepy;  her  eyes  remained  wide  open, 
and  she  saw  the  rows  of  books  which  on  the  opposite 
wall  reached  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling.  She  saw 
her  piano  which  had  been  silent  and  neglected  for 
weeks.  She  saw  her  writing-desk  which  stood  by  the 
window,  and  the  great  center-table  heaped  with 
many  folios.  Gradually  it  began  to  grow  darker,  and 
through  the  window  panes  fell  the  glare  from  a  row 
of  brightly  lighted  windows  of  the  house  opposite. 
Up  there  was  a  printing  establishment.  The  muffled 
rumble  of  the  rotary  presses  also  came  to  her  ears. 
From  the  apartment  on  the  floor  below  penetrated 
the  staccato  strumming  of  a  too  familiar  opera- 

10 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

waltz  —  repeated  with  obstinate  pertinacity  —  de 
testable  sounds!  Oh,  if  one  could  but  hear  the  musi 
cal  tinkle  of  a  brook  or  the  call  of  the  cuckoo! 

An  overmastering  love  for  nature,  for  its  perfumes 
and  voices,  for  its  green  vistas  and  golden  gleams, 
had  ever  been  one  of  Franka's  strongest  passions  — 
an  unfortunate  passion,  for  the  crushing  struggle  for 
existence  had  enchained  father  and  daughter  almost 
exclusively  to  the  narrow  streets  of  the  suburbs,  and 
very  rarely  had  opportunities  been  given  for  them  to 
get  glimpses  of  the  splendors  of  free  nature. 

Nevertheless,  this  young  girl's  mental  life  had  not 
been  narrow.  She  had  ventured  to  gaze  off  over 
wide  horizons,  up  to  sublime  heights,  into  mysteri 
ous  depths,  in  a  manner  seldom  afforded  to  young 
persons  of  her  age  and  sex.  Her  father  had  been  an 
investigator,  a  scientist,  a  thinker,  and  a  poet,  and 
he  had  made  the  child  his  comrade.  She  was  no 
bluestocking,  thank  Heaven  —  from  that  she  was 
safeguarded  by  her  temperament,  by  her  inborn 
charm ;  besides,  he  had  spared  her  all  the  dry  details 
of  science,  all  the  rubbishy  accumulations  of  accu 
racy,  endeavoring  rather  to  disclose  to  her  only  the 
blossoms  of  the  wonders  of  science,  of  the  intellect 
and  of  arts.  But  of  life  itself  she  had  enjoyed  ex 
traordinarily  little :  no  travel,  no  experiences,  no  love- 
affairs  (she  had  been  far  too  rigorously  and  jealously 
guarded  against  anything  of  that  sort),  no  passions: 
—  none  of  these  things  had  penetrated  into  the 
monotony  and  loneliness  of  her  existence.  All  the 
more,  therefore,  in  place  of  these  came  visions, 
hopes,  air-castles,  confident  expectations  that  the 

ii 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

future  concealed  in  its  folds  some  great  good  fortune 
in  store  for  her,  a  good  fortune  in  which  above  all 
others  her  beloved  father  would  share.  And  instead 
of  this,  a  great,  an  absolutely  incomprehensible  piece 
of  evil  fortune  had  come  upon  her:  the  sudden  de 
parture  of  her  dearest  and  only  friend,  teacher,  play 
mate,  protector,  her  all-in-all. 

In  her  present  desolation  the  only  persons  who  had 
interested  themselves  in  her  were  an  elderly  couple 
who  had  rooms  on  the  same  floor  -7-  a  retired  major 
and  his  wife.  When  Mr.  Garlett  died,  the  major 
had  taken  upon  himself  to  make  all  the  arrange 
ments  for  the  funeral,  and  the  major's  wife  had  done 
her  best  to  comfort  and  console  the  despairing  girl. 

The  major  had  investigated  the  drawers  in  the 
writing-table  to  see  if  a  will  or  anything  else  were  to 
be  found.  There  was  no  will,  only  a  savings-bank 
book  calling  for  several  hundred  gulden,  and  of 
course  the  only  daughter  inherited  this:  it  was 
enough  to  cover  the  funeral  expenses  and  to  leave  a 
small  sum  over.  In  a  portfolio  was  a  sealed  letter 
with  the  direction,  "In  case  of  my  death  to  be 
mailed."  The  address  on  it  ran:  — 

To  His  Excellency 

Count  Eduard  von  Sielen, 
Geheimer  Rat,  etc., 
Schloss  Sielenburg, 
Moravia. 

This  letter  the  major  registered  and  mailed  with 
out  letting  Franka  know  anything  about  it,  because 
in  these  first  days  she  was  so  dazed  that  she  really 
did  not  hear  what  was  said  to  her. 

12 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

It  so  happened  that  the  major  and  his  wife  moved 
from  Vienna  to  Graz,  and  Franka  was  now  really 
alone.  She  realized  that  she  was  obliged  to  devise 
some  means  of  earning  her  livelihood,  and  yet  she 
had  been  putting  off  from  day  to  day  the  effort  of 
taking  the  first  steps  in  this  direction.  The  money 
in  the  bank  was  sufficient  to  allow  her  for  a  short 
time  to  lead  her  own  life.  But  this  respite  was,  in 
deed,  brief,  especially  as  the  rent  would  be  shortly 
due. 

Franka  was  not  thinking  of  this  at  all  as  she  lay 
there  in  the  twilight  and  gave  herself  up  to  the  sense 
of  restfulness  that  was  coming  over  her.  Gradually 
this  absence  of  thought,  between  sleeping  and  wak 
ing,  transformed  itself  into  a  pleasant  half-dream. 
The  waltz-rhythms  from  the  neighbor's  piano  grew 
into  a  murmurous  combination  of  organ  tones  and 
the  distant  roaring  of  the  sea ;  the  gleam  of  light  from 
the  printing-house  opposite  took  on  the  prismatic 
colors  of  an  electric  fountain ;  and  through  her  mind 
—  or  was  it  through  her  blood? — vividly  flashed  the 
consciousness,  not  expressed  and  not  even  formu 
lated  in  thought:  —  "I  am  young,  I  am  beautiful,  I 
am  alive  .  .  ." 

The  next  day  Franka  set  out  to  look  for  a  posi 
tion.  She  thought  she  might  become  a  companion  or 
a  reader  or  something  of  that  sort.  She  applied  at 
several  employment  bureaus.  Her  name  was  regis 
tered,  the  booking- fee  was  put  into  the  cash-drawer, 
and  then  she  was  asked  for  references.  She  had 
none.  The  woman  who  had  charge  of  one  bureau 

13 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

remarked:  "You  have  one  great  fault:  you  are  too 
young  and  too  pretty." 

The  remark  was  to  the  point.  Although  she  was 
more  than  twenty,  Franka  seemed  scarcely  eighteen. 
She  was  very  tall  and  supple  in  figure ;  her  big  black 
eyes — though  much  weeping  had  temporarily  robbed 
them  of  their  usual  fire — were  shaded  by  beauti 
ful  thick  lashes ;  her  mouth  had  a  fairly  fascinating 
loveliness;  in  her  carriage  and  in  every  movement 
there  was  something  both  charming  and  aristocratic. 

"Do  you  know,  miss,"  said  the  manageress,  "you 
would  do  better  to  go  on  the  stage  rather  than  try  to 
find  a  position." 

Franka  shook  her  head:  "For  that  one  needs 
talent  as  well  as  special  training." 

"You  might  attend  a  theatrical  training-school." 

"  I  have  not  the  means.  Besides,  I  should  not  find 
it  congenial." 

"You  will  find  it  very  hard  to  get  a  place  in  a 
home  .  .  .  without  references  and  so  dangerously 
pretty.  ...  I  should  hesitate  to  recommend  you. 
There  is  nothing  that  I  know  of  now  to  suit  you. 
However,  perhaps  something  may  turn  up;  if  there 
should,  I  will  communicate  with  you." 

When  Franka  got  home  after  this  unsuccessful 
circuit,  the  maid  met  her  with  the  information  that  a 
gentleman  had  been  there  inquiring  after  her.  He 
said  he  had  been  acquainted  with  her  late  father  and 
that  he  would  return  in  an  hour. 

Shortly  after  this  the  doorbell  rang  and  the  maid 
brought  her  a  visiting-card  on  which  Franka  read:  — 
Freiherr  Ludwig  Malhof,  k.k.  Kammerer. 
14 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  admitted  the  visitor.  At  the  first  glance  she 
recognized  in  the  person  entering  the  elderly  gentle 
man  who  had  recently  followed  her  from  the  ceme 
tery  to  the  house.  She  had  only  once,  when  she 
reached  the  door,  turned  around  to  glance  at  him, 
but  his  appearance  was  too  striking  not  to  make  an 
immediate  impression:  a  figure  of  more  than  ordi 
nary  height  with  broad  shoulders  and  long,  sweeping 
gray  side-whiskers. 

"  Pardon  me,  Fraulein,  for  introducing  myself,  yet 
I  might  .  .  ." 

"You  knew  my  father?"  said  Franka,  interrupt 
ing  his  apology;  "will  you  not  sit  down,  Baron,  and 
tell  me.  .  .  ?" 

She  herself  took  a  seat  and  indicated  a  chair  for 
her  visitor.  He  sat  down  and  placed  his  silk  hat  on 
the  floor.  His  eyes  rested  inquisitively  on  the  lovely 
maiden's  face. 

"In  fact,"  said  he,  somewhat  hesitatingly,  "I  am 
...  I  met  Mr.  Garlett  at  a  friend's  house  where  he 
was  giving  lessons."  His  glance  wandered  to  the 
opposite  wall  on  which  hung  a  portrait. 

"Is  that  your  picture?  —  A  wonderful  likeness." 

"That  is  my  mother's  portrait." 

"Ah!  such  a  resemblance!  .  .  .  And  have  you  lost 
your  mother  also?  So  you  are  absolutely  an  orphan, 
quite  alone?" 

"Quite  alone." 

"But  you  have  some  relatives?" 

Franka  shook  her  head. 

"Then  you  have  some  protector?  Perhaps  a 
sweetheart?" 

15 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"No,  no  one." 

"It  does  not  seem  possible  that  when  one  is  so 
beautiful,  there  has  not  been  some  love-affair  ..." 

A  shade  of  annoyance  flew  over  Franka's  face: 
"Sir,  you  desired  to  speak  to  me  of  my  father  ..." 

"Exactly  so,  your  father  .  .  .  but,  my  dear  child, 
let  us  rather  speak  of  yourself."  In  the  man's  eyes 
flashed  a  look  of  lustful  eagerness.  He  quickly 
dropped  them,  but  Franka  had  seen  it.  "Yes,  of 
you,"  he  continued;  "your  fate  is  worthy  of  all 
sympathy.  Mr.  Garlett  cannot  have  left  much 
property.  .  .  .  Your  future  is  so  uncertain.  .  .  .  You 
are  exposed  to  all  sorts  of  dangers.  .  .  .  You  need  a 
friend"  —  he  stretched  out  his  hand  —  "you  need 
a  fatherly  friend  —  let  me  take  your  little  white 
hand."  ...  At  the  same  time  his  voice  began  to 
tremble  with  ill-restrained  tenderness. 

Franka  stood  up,  and  withdrew  her  hand  which 
the  other  had  seized.  She  surveyed  him  with 
haughty  eyes.  "Among  the  dangers  of  which  you 
speak  certainly  belongs  that  of  an  absolutely  strange 
man  penetrating  to  my  lodgings  and  offering  me  his 
friendship." 

The  amorous  cavalier  realized  that  he  had  gone 
too  far.  "This  energetic  sally  on  your  part  shows 
me,  my  dear  Miss  Gartlett,  that  you  know  how  to 
protect  yourself  from  certain  dangers.  You  are  a 
very  sensible  young  woman."  He  also  had  stood  up, 
and  had  taken  possession  of  his  hat.  "I  shall  turn 
this  reasonableness  to  account.  You  will  hear  from 
me  again.  ...  I  will  leave  you  now;  yet  I  beg  of  you 
to  be  convinced  that  I  wish  you  everything  good." 

16 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

A  stiff  bow  and  he  went  out  without  Franka's 
making  any  attempt  to  retain  him. 

When  she  was  left  alone,  she  breathed  a  sigh  of 
relief.  Still  a  shadow  of  doubt  came  over  her, 
whether  she  had  done  wrong  in  offending  a  possibly 
harmless  man  who  wanted  to  befriend  her,  whether 
he  had  really  known  her  father,  and  for  that  reason 
had  followed  her  from  the  cemetery.  .  .  .  Yet,  no, 
her  feminine  instinct  had  detected  the  lustful  look 
which  had  betrayed  its  forked  flame  in  the  eyes 
and  the  honeyed  smiles  of  the  elegant  old  gentle 
man. 

Alas,  to  be  alone  and  without  means  in  this  world, 
and  obliged  to  defend  herself  against  such  attacks! 

—  Nowhere  an  arm  to  protect  her,  nowhere  a  heart 
to  which  she  might  fly  for  refuge.  .  .  .  And  now, 
what?  Supposing  she  should  find  no  situation?  And 
even  if  she  did,  would  she  not  be  still  just  as  lonely, 
just  as  deserted  among  strangers? 

"Oh,  father,  father,"  she  cried  aloud;  "my  noble, 
my  youthful-hearted  father,  why  did  you  have  to 
die?  —  Die  without  accomplishing  the  high  tasks 
which  lay  before  you!  ..." 

Whether  Garlett  would  have  ever  accomplished 
the  tasks  to  which  his  daughter  made  reference  is 
very  doubtful.  There  had  been  literary  plans  which 
he  had  long  had  in  mind,  but  he  had  never  brought 
any  of  them  to  fulfillment.  Was  it  from  lack  of  time 

—  for  when  one  must  give  private  instructions  to 
earn  one's  bread  and  butter,  there  is  little  leisure  for 
writing  books  —  or  was  it  from  lack  of  energy?  He 
had  never  got  beyond  projects,  sketches,  introduc- 

17 


WHEN  THpUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tions.  But  in  Franka's  eyes  he  always  was  to  be  the 
greatest  author  of  his  age.  His  masterpiece  was 
there  —  it  lay  complete  in  his  brain  and  required 
only  to  be  written  out. 

In  their  readings  and  their  studies  together,  it  had 
often  happened  that  he  would  pause  and  develop 
some  idea  associated  with  what  they  had  been  pe 
rusing,  or  would  utter  some  deep  remark,  and  add : 
"  I  will  write  a  book  about  that."  Themes  for  essays 
were  on  hand  in  abundance,  and  Franka  had  made  a 
collection  of  such  utterances  which  she  had  jotted 
down  in  a  book.  She  had  turned  over  these  pages 
every  day  since  her  father's  death  —  to  her  this 
seemed  like  a  continued  spiritual  communication 
with  him.  Now,  after  her  unexpected  caller  had 
taken  his  departure,  and  feeling  doubly  unhappy 
under  the  bitter  impression  that  he  had  made  upon 
her,  she  went  once  more  to  the  cupboard  where  those 
papers  were  kept,  in  order  to  obtain  from  them 
diversion  and  edification. 

She  would  soon  be  obliged  to  part  with  the  books 
and  all  her  household  goods,  for  if  she  were  burdened 
with  a  library  and  furniture  she  could  not  enter  the 
house  of  strangers,  but  this  beloved  volume  she 
would  keep  forever  and  in  all  situations  of  life.  From 
it  the  very  voice  of  the  beloved  father  would  speak  ; 
from  it  would  flash  up  in  her  mind  those  momentary 
pictures,  which  often  a  sentence  or  a  word  —  just 
as  a  stereopticon  throws  them  on  a  screen  —  can 
waken  out  of  the  depths  of  memory. 

The  leaf  which  she  first  took  up  contained  only 
brief  notes  in  Garlett's  handwriting.  Were  they 

18 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

thoughts  of  his  own,  were  they  citations?  Probably 
both  mingled  together.   Franka  read :  — 

The  aim  of  men's  active  organization 

Is  the  getting  out  of  the  World  all  the  good  it  will  yield, 
Whether  it  be  the  domain  of  the  Mind's  creation, 

Whether  it  be  the  crop  of  the  well-eared  field. 

None  of  the  fixed  stars  is  nearer  to  us  than  four  millions  of 
millions  of  miles.  .  .  .  And  we  call  that  speck  Austria  —  a  great 
country ! 

Moral  progress  finally  consists  in  the  increase  of  the  horror  felt 
against  the  infliction  of  pain. 

Over  abysses  of  night  the  eye  of  the  Spirit  can  wander, 
There  to  behold  the  gleaming  of  yet  uncreated  light. 

Nothing  great  can  ever  be  accomplished  without  inspiration. 

Where  to-day  the  vanguard  camps,  there  to-morrow  the  rear 
most  rests. 

"Of  all  good  works,  the  long  list  through, 
Which  is  the  best  for  us  to  do?" 
When  his  disciples  of  the  Prophet 
Asked  this,  what  think  you  he  made  of  it? 
No  good  work  with  another  can  interfere : 
Do  each  in  its  right  time:  that  is  clear." 

O  Napoleon,  standing  on  the  Vendome  column,  if  the  blood 
that  thou  hast  caused  to  be  shed,  were  collected  here  on  this 
place,  easily  mightest  thou  drink  of  it,  not  stooping. 

A  few  days  later  a  packet  was  left  at  Franka's 
door;  she  herself  took  it  in.  When  she  saw  the  post 
man,  she  hoped  that  he  was  bringing  her  a  notifica 
tion  from  the  employment  bureau  that  a  place  had 
been  found  for  her.  What  would  she  do  if  her  small 
store  of  money  should  come  to  an  end  before  she  had 

19 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

found  any  situation?  There  were  still  left  the  fur 
niture  and  the  books,  but  what  they  would  bring 
would  be  small  and  soon  exhausted.  She  had  already 
made  inquiries  of  second-hand  dealers  and  anti 
quaries:  these  had  come  and  looked  at  her  posses 
sions  and  offered  for  the  "whole  business"  a  ridicu 
lously  small  price.  .  .  . 

She  opened  the  package:  a  jewel-case  and  a  letter 
were  inclosed  in  it.  The  case  contained  a  pair  of 
diamond  studs.  The  letter  read  as  follows:  — 

DEAR  FRAULEIN,  — 

I  promised  that  I  would  appeal  to  your  reason.  This  is 
what  I  am  doing,  and  I  picture  to  myself  a  sensible,  a  very 
sensible  young  lady  as  reading  these  lines.  I  shall  talk 
very  frankly  with  you.  You  must  also  be  perfectly  frank, 
not  only  with  me,  but  also  with  yourself,  putting  on  no 
mask,  affecting  no  pose  —  least  of  all  those  of  virtue,  such 
as  belong  only  to  the  heroines  of  Gartenlaube  novels. 
Real  life  must  be  taken  and  lived  in  another  way,  if  one 
is  reasonable,  and  that  you  are,  my  lovely  Franka! 

Now,  listen:  I  have  fallen  violently  in  love  with  you.  I 
saw  you  in  the  street  and  followed  you.  I  made  inquiries 
about  you  and  your  circumstances.  I  know  the  whole 
story ;  you  are  without  family  and  without  means,  and  are 
on  the  very  threshold  of  bitter  poverty.  I  also  know  that 
you  are  endeavoring  to  find  a  paying  situation,  for  I  fol 
lowed  you  when  you  went  to  the  employment  office. 

Tell  me,  really,  would  you,  with  your  striking  beauty, 
take  up  with  a  wage  employment,  be  a  dependent?  Now 
there  is  one  thing  that  I  might  have  done:  I  might  have 
tried  little  by  little  to  sneak  into  your  good  graces  and 
then  .  .  .  but  it  goes  against  my  grain  to  play  the  elderly 
Don  Juan.  I  am  aware  that  I  no  longer  have  the  appear 
ance  to  warrant  my  attempting  to  win  young  maidens' 
hearts ;  but  I  can  make  a  reasonable  maiden  happy :  that 

20 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is,  I  can  offer  her  a  care-free  life,  a  life  full  of  enjoyments. 
Only,  there  is  to  be  no  misunderstanding:  this  is  not  an 
offer  of  marriage.  I  am  a  confirmed  old  bachelor  and  I 
propose  to  remain  one.  What  I  offer  you  is  better  than  the 
fortune  of  being  the  wife  of  an  unloved  and  jealous  old 
husband,  for  if  you  wished  to  deceive  him  it  would  entail 
great  worry  in  hiding  it  and  it  might  cause  a  damaged 
reputation  besides. 

I  offer  you  freedom,  —  perfect  liberty,  —  the  unobtru 
sive  society  of  a  lively  man,  not  without  wit,  who  will,  as 
they  say,  "look  after  you "  as  long  as  you  will  permit  him 
to  do  so.  First  and  foremost  he  offers  you  luxury.  Listen: 
luxury.  That  means  the  essential  element  of  beauty,  the 
only  atmosphere  for  a  creature  like  you.  A  splendid  villa 
in  the  cottage-quarter,  servants,  a  carriage  of  your  own, 
gowns,  jewelry:  everything  of  this  sort  I  lay  at  your  feet. 
This  does  not  imply  a  retired  and  restricted  life  —  not  at 
all:  in  your  salon  we  shall  receive  my  friends  and  their 
lady  friends,  —  artists  and  writers  and  interesting  for 
eigners  :  it  shall  be  a  real  salon  where  everything  sparkles 
with  intellect,  music,  and  gayety;  also  theaters  and  con 
certs  to  your  heart's  desire.  And  in  summer:  journeys, 
trips  to  the  seashore,  the  mountains  .  .  . 

As  you  see,  Franka,  child,  a  horn  of  plenty  filled  with 
delights  is  going  to  be  poured  out  for  you.  Only  do  not 
be  a  narrow-minded  Philistine;  only  no  "principles"  and 
moral  commandments  after  the  type  of  ancient  almanac 
stories  or  complimentary  gift  literature  for  girls  of  riper 
age.  Life,  my  dear  young  lady,  is  entirely  different  from 
the  stale  moralities  that  find  their  expression  in  the  sam 
plers  of  old  maids  and  that  are  honored  in  the  tea-table 
chatter  of  suburban  aunties,  as  they  turn  up  their  eyes 
in  holy  horror!  —  Life  wants  to  be  boldly  grasped,  to  be 
conquered  with  joyous  pride;  above  all,  to  be  enjoyed. 

Such  an  opportunity  is  not  offered  to  many  of  ycur  sex; 
how  many,  in  spite  of  youth  and  beauty,  must,  if  they  are 
poor,  waste  their  lives  in  degrading,  wearisome,  laborious 
occupations,  struggling  with  all  sorts  of  privations,  only  at 

21 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

last  to  take  up  with  some  rough  husband  who  will  make 
her  wretched  —  unless,  indeed,  the  terrible,  abominable 
fate  overtakes  her,  of  which  possibly  you  know  nothing, 
of  becoming  a  victim  of  the  international  white-slave 
traffic  which  not  infrequently  makes  use  of  intelligence 
offices.  .  .  . 

Was  it  not  your  good  genius,  your  guardian  angel,  that 
has  so  disposed  matters  that  an  elderly  man,  heart-free 
and  wise  in  experience,  has  crossed  your  path,  has  fallen 
in  love  first  with  your  pretty  face,  then  with  your  whole 
admirable  personality,  that  this  man  has  no  other  obliga 
tion  than  the  disposition  of  a  very  large  estate,  and  that 
he  in  fond  expectation  of  your  summons  signs  himself 
Your  humble  Slave? 

MALHOF. 

After  Franka  had  finished  reading  this  letter,  she 
tore  it  into  tiny  bits,  and,  laying  them  on  the  pale- 
yellow  velvet  of  the  jewel-case  next  the  glittering 
stones,  made  the  whole  into  a  package,  which  she 
carefully  tied  up  and  sealed;  and,  after  addressing 
it  to  Baron  Ludwig  Malhof,  hastened  to  mail  it  at 
the  nearest  post-office  station  without  taking  a  mo 
ment's  time  for  consideration.  She  felt  a  keen  satis 
faction  in  flinging  the  gift  and  the  letter  down  at  the 
feet  of  her  insulter.  On  receiving  them  back,  he 
would  redden  with  shame  as  if  he  had  been  struck 
by  the  rid  ing- whip  of  an  angry  queen. 

Or  would  he  not  rather  laugh  at  her  for  her  "vir 
tuous  pose,"  for  her  "moral  Philistinism"?  Franka 
was  conscious  that  it  was  not  a  conventional  "vir 
tue"  which  had  stimulated  her  impulsive  action, 
but  a  mixture  of  one  tenth  sense  of  honor  and  nine 
tenths  aversion.  .  .  .  She  was  not  quite  ignorant  as 
regards  the  mysteries  of  love,  although  she  had  so 

22 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

far  had  no  love-affairs.  Her  father  had  delicately 
initiated  her,  through  studies  of  plants  and  animals, 
into  the  secrets  of  the  transmission  of  life,  and  her 
comprehensive  reading,  begun  when  she  was  a  little 
child,  —  the  poets,  somewhat  later  the  German, 
French,  and  English  novelists,  —  had  given  her  an 
insight  into  the  whole  world  of  passion,  —  into  the 
tragedies  and  joys,  the  sorrows  and  dreams,  of  love; 
also  into  the  crimes  and  baseness,  the  ardent  happi 
ness  and  the  depths  of  despair,  which  are  found  in 
the  domain  of  sex,  and,  on  the  whole,  she  had  a 
boundlessly  high  ideal  of  love.  Perhaps  for  the  very 
reason  that  hitherto  she  had  found  no  one  to  inspire 
this  feeling  in  her  soul,  because  no  little  adventures 
and  gleams  of  romance  had  disillusioned  her,  her 
ideas  and  presentiments,  if  by  chance  they  swept 
into  this  domain,  were  so  highstrung. 

A  love  union  and  paradise  were  to  her  two  similar 
conceptions.  A  pure  fountain  of  devoted  tenderness 
and  a  glowing  hearth  of  passionate  yearnings  were 
concealed  in  her  inmost  being,  still  panoplied  round 
with  virgin  austerity,  with  a  delicate,  flower-like  ter 
ror  of  any  impure  touch.  If  ever  she  bestowed  the 
treasure  of  her  love,  it  would  be  for  the  recipient  and 
for  herself  a  sacred  moment  of  the  loftiest  bliss. 

And  the  idea  of  her  throwing  herself  away  for 
money,  for  clothes,  for  precious  stones,  —  and  in 
stead  of  highest  rapture  to  feel  only  deepest  repul 
sion,  —  to  endure  the  embraces  of  that  old  satyr, 
the  kisses  of  a  shriveled,  detestable  mouth.  .  .  .  No! 
Sooner  die !  And  should  Fate  never  offer  her  the  pos 
sibility  of  giving  that  treasure  to  one  truly  beloved, 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

then  were  it  better  sunk  in  the  depths  of  the  sea ! 
That  hateful  creature  had  written  something  about 
a  horn  of  plenty  filled  with  joys  —  yes,  she  pos 
sessed  such  a  one  to  pour  out  upon  the  dear  life  that 
would  be  united  with  hers.  .  .  .  No ;  that  should  not 
be  wasted  and  shattered! 

The  next  day,  as  Baron  Malhof  was  preparing  to 
go  and  get  his  answer  from  the  young  girl,  an  answer 
which  he  did  not  doubt  would  be  favorable,  though 
perhaps  awkwardly  expressed,  he  was  interrupted  in 
the  midst  of  his  fastidious  toilet  by  the  arrival  of  the 
package.  After  he  had  opened  it,  he  hissed  out  two 
words  which  expressed  his  whole  sense  of  disgust :  — 
"Stupid  goose!" 

Several  weeks  elapsed,  and  still  no  situation 
offered.  Now  Franka  was  constrained  to  sell  her 
books  in  order  to  exist  for  a  time  —  and  what  an 
existence!  She  was  standing  in  front  of  the  book 
case,  selecting  the  volumes  which  for  the  time  being 
she  still  felt  unable  to  part  with ;  she  intended  to  lay 
these  aside  so  that  the  second-hand  dealer  whom  she 
had  summoned  might  not  see  them. 

Tears  stood  in  her  eyes,  for  to  her  it  was  a  great 
and  painful  sacrifice.  She  would  have  preferred  to 
keep  them  all,  for  almost  every  one  of  those  vol 
umes  was  associated  in  her  memory  with  joyous, 
soul-stimulating  hours  —  all  of  Goethe,  all  of  Shake 
speare,  Byron,  Victor  Hugo,  and  other  classics  of 
universal  literature.  They  must  all  go  —  these  good 
spirits  which  had  with  their  magical  pictures  glori 
fied  so  many  winter  evenings  for  the  two  solitaries ! 

24 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Also,  away  with  the  thick-bodied  works  of  the  phi 
losophers,  from  Aristotle  to  Schopenhauer;  away 
with  the  works  of  history  and  the  encyclopaedias; 
away  with  the  whole  rows  of  modern  fiction. 

Only  a  shelf-full  of  scientific  books  by  contempo 
raneous  authors,  —  scientists,  thinkers,  and  stylists 
at  the  same  time,  —  Bolsche,  Bruno  Wille,  Herbert 
Spencer,  Emerson,  Anatole  France,  Haeckel,  Ernst 
Mach,  Friedrich  Jodl,  and  a  few  others,  —  these  she 
would  keep  and  take  with  her  and  plunge  into  again 
in  order  to  get  edification  from  the  remembrance 
of  the  unforgettable  words  which  her  father  had 
spoken  to  her  when  they  were  reading  them  together. 

"Child,  these  are  revelations!  What  the  human 
mind  —  which  is  certainly  a  part  of  God  —  has 
gradually  glimpsed  at  and  recognized  —  is  the  dis 
closure  of  the  Highest,  and  therefore  is  what  men 
call  Revelation.  In  astonishment  and  awe  we  are 
learning  things  of  which  our  fathers  and  the  major 
ity  of  our  contemporaries  had  no  suspicion.  We  are 
penetrating  into  mysteries  which  bring  before  our 
eyes  the  grandeur  of  the  universe  and  its  infinities 
and  which  still  remain  mysteries  —  for  our  con 
sciousness  only  perceives  but  does  not  comprehend 
them.  We  are  standing  on  the  threshold  of  per 
fectly  new  apperceptions,  and  so  at  the  threshold  of 
a  wholly  new  epoch :  fortunate  are  we  who  are  to  live 
in  this  twentieth  century.  It  is  the  cradle  of  some 
newborn  thing  destined  to  the  most  glorious  devel 
opment.  What  will  it  be  called?  No  one  as  yet 
knows ;  only  posterity  will  find  a  name  for  it. 

"Child,  approach  these  revelations  with  a  relig- 

25 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ious  mind.  You  know  what  I  call  'religious':  to 
have  the  sense  of  reverence,  to  know  that  there 
are  sublime  things  as  yet  unknown;  to  wish  to  be 
worthy  of  the  greatness  and  the  goodness  that  every 
where  prevails  and  therefore  to  be  good  one's  self. 
Now,  perhaps  you  may  ask  what  I  mean  by  '  good '  ? 
There  is  no  end  in  the  chain  of  definitions ;  —  do  not 
always  try  to  explain,  but  rather  to  feel,  and  then 
you  have  the  right  thing.  ..." 

In  many  of  the  books  which  Franka  was  now 
glancing  over  were  places  marked  by  her  father's 
marginal  notes;  some  of  them,  made  with  pencil, 
were  so  pale  that  they  were  scarcely  legible.  Franka 
got  a  pen  and  ink  and  retraced  the  lines.  While  she 
was  engaged  in  this  work,  she  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  the  maid :  — 

"Excuse  me,  miss,  there  is  a  gentleman  outside  as 
wishes  to  speak  to  you." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  was  expecting  him;  please  show  him 
in." 

A  comfortable-looking,  well-dressed  man  of  mid 
dle  age  entered.  He  bowed  politely. 

"Miss  Garlett?   I  take  the  liberty  ..." 

"You  have  come  to  see  about  the  books?" 

"What  books?" 

"Were  you  not  sent  by  the  dealer?" 

"No,  miss.  I  take  the  liberty  of  introducing  my 
self:  Attorney  Dr.  Fixstern.  It  concerns  a  matter 
which  is  of  the  highest  importance  for  you." 

"Oh,  in  regard  to  a  situation  — ?" 

A  suspicion  crossed  her  mind.  She  remembered 
what  Baron  Malhof  had  written  her  regarding  the 

26 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

traps  that  sometimes  are  laid  in  the  offers  of  em 
ployment  bureaus.  She  would  be  on  her  guard. 

"No,  not  at  all;  something  quite  different.  Will 
you  permit  me  to  sit  down  —  as  the  interview  may 
be  somewhat  protracted?"  And  he  drew  a  chair  up 
to  the  table. 

"Please,  I  am  listening;  but  I  have  not  very  much 
time  ..."  And  she  herself  sat  down  at  some  little 
distance. 

" Oh,  you  will  give  me  all  the  time  I  want!  What  I 
have  to  say  to  you  is  too  agreeable  for  you  to  wish 
to  break  off  my  communication,  my  dear  very  much 
honored  Miss  Franka  Garlett.  That  is  your  name,  is 
knot?" 

"Yes,  that  is  my  name,"  she  answered  coldly. 

"  Daughter  of  the  late  Professor  Garlett,  and  like 
wise  of  his  late  lawful  wife,  Ida  Garlett,  born  Count 
ess  Sielen  of  Sielenburg?" 

"My  father  and  I  were  not  accustomed  ever  to 
mention  that  title." 

"Your  father  was  very  democratic  in  his  notions, 
was  he  not?  But  to  the  business  in  hand:  I  am  the 
attorney  of  His  Excellency  the  old  Count  Sielen,  and 
I  have  come  here  at  his  request." 

Franka  listened  in  the  greatest  agitation ;  this  did 
not  sound  like  an  offer  of  a  situation  and  was,  indeed, 
surprising. 

Dr.  Fixstern  took  out  of  his  breast-pocket  an  en 
velope  and  laid  it  down  before  him  on  the  table. 
Then  he  went  on  to  say:  — 

"Your  grandfather,  miss,  a  short  time  after  his 
return  from  Egypt,  where  he  had  been  sojourning  on 

27 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

account  of  his  health,  found  waiting  for  him  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Garlett.  I  have  it  here.  Perhaps  you  are 
familiar  with  its  contents?  .  .  .  No?  .  .  .  Then,  will 
you  please  read  it?" 

With  a  throbbing  heart  Franka  took  the  letter  and 
unfolded  it.  The  beloved  handwriting !  It  was  like  a 
greeting  from  beyond  the  grave.  She  read :  — 

To  THE  COUNT  OF  SIELEN:  — 

For  almost  a  generation  I  have  been  to  you  like  one 
vanished.  Never  have  I  attempted  to  approach  you.  As 
it  were,  an  abyss  lay  between  us  — we  had  both  inflicted 
the  utmost  pain  on  the  other :  you,  by  your  harsh  repudia 
tion  of  my  beloved  wife,  who  died  in  consequence  of  it  —  I 
to  you,  by  robbing  you  of  your  daughter.  As  long  as  we 
lived  we  could  not  pardon  each  other. 

But  in  the  presence  of  death,  all  resentment,  pride,  and 
everything  of  the  sort  which  are  the  bitter  prerogatives  of 
the  living,  disappear. 

This  letter  comes  into  your  hands  only  in  case  death  has 
stricken  me  before  my  Franka  is  provided  for ;  such  is  the 
name  of  my  daughter,  your  grandchild.  Orphaned,  left 
without  a  farthing,  she  might  be  exposed  to  the  deepest 
poverty  and  the  greatest  dangers.  This  thought  is  my 
sorrow  and  my  torment.  The  maiden  is  sweet  and  good 
and  highly  educated,  and  —  as  you  cannot  read  coldly  — 
she  has  grown  up  to  be  the  image  of  her  mother  —  feature 
for  feature.  Graf  Sielen,  I  beg  of  you :  look  after  the  young 
girl.  Do  not  let  her  suffer  want  or  ruin. 

The  signature,  with  date  and  address,  followed. 
Having  read  it  through,  Franka  gazed  at  the  sheet 
for  a  long  time. 

Dr.  Fixstern  awakened  her  out  of  her  thoughts :  — 
"Would  you  like  to  know,  miss,  how  His  Excel 
lency  responds  to  this  letter  of  your  father  —  a  letter 

28 


which,  it  must  be  said,  is  very  effective  by  reason  of 
its  brevity?" 

A  warm  stream  of  joy  expanded  Franka's  heart. 
The  lawyer  had  already  informed  her  that  he  had 
pleasant  news  for  her:  so  it  was  clear  that  her  grand 
father  was  going  to  look  after  her:  there  would  be 
some  one  to  love  her  again.  .  .  . 

"Well,  Doctor,"  she  asked,  with  eagerness,  "what 
message  do  you  bring  me?" 

"A  pleasant  one,  my  dear  miss.  The  count  has 
instituted  inquiries  about  you,  has  had  you  care 
fully  watched  of  late,  and  has  now  decided  to  invite 
you  to  come  to  Sielenburg.  He  will  provide  for  your 
future.  He  himself  would  have  come  to  Vienna  to 
fetch  you,  but  illness  confines  him  to  his  room  —  the 
old  gentleman  is  now  more  than  seventy  —  Egypt 
seems  not  to  have  done  him  any  good.  Now  I  am 
commissioned,  in  the  first  place,  to  make  this  dis 
closure  to  you,  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  hand  you 
these  lines." 

He  took  a  second  sheet  out  of  the  envelope  and 
handed  it  to  Franka,  who  read  as  follows :  — 

SIELENBURG,  May  20,  1909. 
DEAR  GRANDDAUGHTER:  — 

I  invite  you  to  make  your  home  with  me.  The  bearer, 
my  attorney,  will  provide  whatever  is  necessary  and  will 
accompany  you  hither.  God  bless  you. 

COUNT  EDUARD  SIELEN. 

"In  the  third  place,"  proceeded  Dr.  Fixstern,  "I 
am  to  hand  you  a  small  sum  of  money,"  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word  he  laid  on  the  table  a  bundle 

29 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

of  bank-notes  —  there  were  ten  one-hundred-kronen 
bills,  —  "and,  in  the  fourth  place,  to  consult  with 
you  regarding  the  prospective  journey  to  Moravia. 
You  probably  require  some  little  preparation  and  in 
this  my  wife  may  be  able  to  help  you.  .  .  .  Now,  my 
dear  miss,  have  you  a  little  more  time  to  spare  for 
me?" 

Franka  offered  him  her  hand.  She  could  not  im 
mediately  find  words  —  it  was  like  a  dream,  like  a 
fairy-tale.  A  home !  So  suddenly  to  be  rescued  from 
all  her  tribulation  and  all  her  desolation  —  a  home ! 


CHAPTER  II 

CHLODWIG  HELMER 

AT  THE  SlELENBURG,  1 909. 

DEAR  COUSIN  AND  BELOVED  FRIEND! 

It  was  a  pleasant  surprise  when  your  letter,  after  long 
wanderings,  reached  me  here.  I  was  convinced  that  you 
had  entirely  forgotten  me,  —  ten  long  years  we  had  lost 
sight  of  each  other,  —  and  now  suddenly  down  upon  me 
rains  this  letter  in  which  you  relate  to  me  the  experiences 
which  you  have  been  having  in  all  this  time  and  you  want 
to  have  the  like  from  me. 

Oh,  how  gladly  do  I  fulfill  your  wish !  I  am  simply  hun 
gry  for  a  regular  outpouring  of  my  mind.  Your  twenty 
pages  would  make  the  basis  of  a  fascinating  novel :  inter 
esting  events  described  in  a  fluent  style.  Now,  my  answer 
ought  not  to  prove  much  shorter :  I  shall  devote  to  it  a  few 
hours  of  leisure,  but  I  shall  not  take  much  trouble  about 
polishing  my  style.  "Unconstrained"  —  do  you  remem 
ber?  That  was  the  catchword  that  we  selected  at  the  time 
when  we  became  intimate  friends  as  students  in  the  same 
class  in  the  Theresianum.  "Unconstrained"  —  ah!  in 
this  word  lie  whole  revolutions,  and  you  know  well  that  I 
have  always  been  a  revolutionist. 

Now  for  my  story.  I  will  begin  at  the  very  end,  that 
is  —  this  very  day.  Before  I  confide  to  you  what  I  have 
been  doing  during  these  last  years,  you  must  know  where 
and  what  I  am  at  the  present  moment.  My  residence  is 
called  Schloss  Sielenburg.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  great 
park  of  twenty  acres,  and  from  the  window  is  visible  a 
forest  which  is  my  delight.  Many  trees  a  hundred  years 
old,  and  one  oak  a  thousand  years  old,  stand  in  it,  and 
there  are  moss  and  shrubbery  and  the  twitter  of  birds. 

31 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

That  there  are  still  such  forests  on  the  earth  can  console 
one  for  the  existence  of  cities  and  suburbs. 

From  my  window  I  can  see  the  roof  of  the  stables 
where  there  are  six  pairs  of  carriage-horses  and  six  saddle- 
horses.  A  garage  for  the  automobiles  is  just  building. 
Among  the  saddle-horses  is  a  gray  with  a  silken  mane, 
with  some  Arab  in  his  build  and  behavior,  with  such 
thoughtful  and  reproachful,  and  at  the  same  time  affec 
tionate,  eyes  —  ah !  I  tell  you  there  are  animals  also  here 
below,  the  existence  of  which  can  console  us  for  many 
of  the  councilors  and  aldermen  that  are  their  contem 
poraries  !  So  you  may  easily  imagine  how  reconciled  with 
the  world  I  feel  as  I  ride  on  that  gray  through  yonder 
forest ! 

I  am  not  master  of  all  this  accumulated  wealth :  castle, 
grounds,  forests,  stables,  and  garages  are  the  property  of 
the  Right  Honorable  Count  Eduard  Sielen  —  a  sick  old 
man.  He  exercises  his  dominion  also  over  a  secretary, 
and  that  secretary  am  I. 

Now  you  know  —  I,  the  cabinet  minister's  son,  over 
whose  future  career  we  could  not  make  plans  sufficiently 
ambitious,  —  to  be  an  ambassador  was  one  of  the  lowest 
of  my  expectations,  —  am  now  in  a  subservient,  humble 
position,  am  obliged  to  be  forever  ready,  at  my  gracious 
master's  beck  and  call,  to  write  at  his  dictation  or  read 
to  him  the  newspapers,  or  anything  else.  And  yet  I  feel 
much  more  free  than  when  I  was  in  the  government  serv 
ice,  for  I  can  throw  up  my  place  at  any  moment,  and 
the  work  which  I  am  performing  is  independent  of  what 
I  think;  it  leaves  my  private  character,  my  personal 
actions,  untouched,  whereas  in  the  service  of  the  State 
the  master  cannot  be  changed  and  one  must  subordinate 
his  whole  "  I "  to  his  standards,  and  only  act  and  work  as 
an  unelastic  system  demands. 

No,  I  could  not  have  endured  that  yoke.  I  did  not 
endure  it.  After  completing  my  volunteer  year,  I  began 
my  regular  service  under  a  district  chief ;  once  I  ventured 
to  contradict  my  superior,  and  as  a  punishment  was  trans- 

32 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ferred  to  a  smaller  district  at  soul-killing  labor  and  no 
living  wage ;  one  must  practice  for  some  years  before  one 
gets  a  decent  salary  —  I  left  the  service. 

In  the  mean  time  my  parents  had  died  —  so  I  had  no 
need  of  asking  any  one's  advice.  I  was  free.  I  had  inher 
ited  a  small  property  profitably  invested  in  industrials; 
this  made  me  independent.  I  traveled  about  the  world 
and  I  have  seen  a  tremendous  lot  and  learned  a  tremen 
dous  lot  from  my  experiences. 

Then  suddenly  the  value  of  my  industrials  fell  so  far 
below  par  that  one  fine  day  the  bonds  were  so  much  waste 
paper.  That  meant:  "Go  to  work  again."  For  a  time  I 
was  a  journalist,  but  that  also  was  an  unendurable  yoke. 
I  was  obliged  to  bend  my  judgment  to  suit  the  opinions 
of  the  paper  on  which  I  was  engaged  as  an  editorial 
writer,  and  these  opinions  were,  to  tell  the  truth,  no 
opinions  at  all,  but  consisted  in  following  the  instructions 
given  out  by  the  ministry.  Here  again  was  a  form  of 
slavery,  of  gagging,  which  I  could  not  put  up  with,  and  I 
left  the  editorial  sanctum  just  as  I  had  left  the  govern 
ment  office.  Then  I  was  happy  when  I  was  offered  a  posi 
tion  as  secretary  to  the  old  Count  Sielen  which  I  have 
been  filling  for  two  years  now.  .Here  I  can  at  least  poetize 
and  think  as  I  please. 

Yes,  poetize.  Perhaps  you  did  not  know  that  I  have 
discovered  in  myself  the  impulse  to  write  verses,  and  a 
collection  of  my  poems  has  already  appeared  in  print  and 
has  been  enthusiastically  received  by  the  critics.  I  will 
not  name  the  title  and  publisher,  lest  you  may  think  that 
I  am  hinting  to  you  to  buy  it  —  moreover,  I  have  issued 
it  under  a  pseudonym  which  I  will  not  divulge  until  my 
reputation  is  established.  At  the  present  time  I  am  put 
ting  the  last  touches  to  a  four-act  drama.  You  have  no 
notion  what  a  delight,  what  an  exalting  consciousness  of 
accomplishment,  lies  in  writing  out  from  one's  very  soul 
what  moves  it.  And  to  create !  To  enrich  the  world  with 
something  new!  The  joy  of  creation  is  the  highest  of  all 
joys.  If  I  were  not  a  poet  I  would  crave  to  be  an  in- 

33 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ventor.  ...  I  do  not  know,  for  example,  whether  the  name 
"Edison"  should  not  be  spoken  with  as  much  respect  as 
the  name  "Shakespeare."  I  am  now  following  enviously 
the  work  of  the  aviators  —  I  look  up  to  the  Zeppelins 
and  the  Wrights  as  to  heroes  and  especially  as  to  heralds. 
They  are  sounding  the  call  to  a  new  era.  They  are  sum 
moning  their  fellow-men  to  vanquish  an  unheard-of 
future  —  perhaps  without  knowing  it,  for  their  minds  are 
fixed  on  the  mechanical  part  of  their  work.  The  aerial 
age !  Do  you  surmise  what  that  signifies?  Certainly,  those 
have  no  notion  of  it  who  would  accomplish  nothing  else 
with  their  sky-commanding  apparatus  than  to  elevate 
into  the  air  the  ancient  scourges  of  the  depths. 

In  your  story  of  the  last  ten  years  which  you  have  so 
kindly  made  me  acquainted  with,  you  write  a  vast  amount 
about  your  experiences  in  life  and  love. 

Pardon  me,  if  I  do  not  tell  you  anything  about  my  ex 
periences  in  love.  I  do  not  want  to  profane,  in  dry  epis 
tolary  prose,  whatever  has  sanctified  my  life  with  tender 
charm,  and  I  would  not  soil  my  pen  with  vulgar  adven 
tures.  Every  man  has  in  this  domain  a  bit  of  magic 
dreamland  and  a  —  register  of  his  peccadilloes.  The  one  I 
leave  undisclosed,  the  other  unconfessed. 

On  the  Sielenburg  at  the  present  time  —  not  taking 
into  account  the  kitchen  department  —  there  is  no  one 
of  the  gentle  sex  dangerous  to  any  man's  heart  or  peace 
of  mind.  The  housekeeping  is  under  the  charge  of  the 
count's  widowed  sister,  the  Countess  Schollendorf ,  who  is 
at  least  sixty-two  years  old.  She  exercises  control  over 
the  household  and  the  servants  and  she  invites  guests 
according  to  her  own  idiosyncrasies  —  for  the  most  part 
ancient  female  cousins.  There  are  three  of  that  sort  here 
now,  accompanied  by  their  maids  and  their  lapdogs.  One 
of  these  females  —  her  name  is  Albertine  —  has  two  ter 
rible  peculiarities :  the  first  is  sincerity,  and  the  second  is 
that  she  is  deeply  concerned  with  the  well-being  of  all  her 
fellow-men.  It  results  from  the  first  that  she  is  always 
telling  people  to  their  faces  the  most  disagreeable  truths, 

34 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  from  the  second  that  she  expects  of  them  every  sort 
of  sacrifice  and  renunciation  and  other  torments  —  of 
course,  "only  for  their  own  good." 

There  are  still  other  habitu6s  of  the  establishment:  the 
castle  chaplain  and  an  aged  ruined  cousin  four  times  re 
moved,  to  whom  Count  Sielen  furnishes  bread  and  but 
ter.  As  you  see,  it  is  not  a  very  gay  society,  nor  is  the 
conversation  at  table  very  enlivening.  Yet,  just  now,  the 
count,  because  of  his  miserable  health,  is  accustomed  to 
take  his  meals  in  his  own  room,  and  I  keep  him  company, 
which  is  preferable  to  sitting  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table 
in  the  big  dining-room  and  listening  to  uninteresting 
small-talk,  mostly  confined  to  the  idle  gossip  of  court  and 
society,  unless,  by  chance,  thanks  to  the  old  cousin,  who 
is  an  archreactionary,  it  skirts  the  domain  of  politics  — 
which  makes  it  particularly  distasteful  to  me.  This  gen 
tleman  would  especially  like  to  see  restored  the  conditions 
that  prevailed  before  the  year  1848,  and  from  this  stand 
point  he  illuminates  the  present-day  events  and  questions 
of  which  his  newspaper  —  the  "Reichspost" —  brings 
him  an  echo. 

That  his  opposite  neighbor  at  table  has  Jewish  blood 
in  his  veins  —  you  know  my  mother's  grandfather  was  a 
Jew  —  does  not  prevent  him  from  letting  his  opinion  con 
cerning  regrettable  disturbances  culminate  in  the  sen 
tence:  "The  Jews  are  responsible  for  that":  —  for  exam 
ple,  the  Russian  revolution  and  the  horrors  connected 
with  it,  all  initiated  by  the  Jews :  the  decay  of  morals,  the 
increase  of  poverty,  the  downfall  of  the  old  aristocratic 
families,  earthquakes  and  floods  (these  latter  as  God's 
punishments)  —  all  these  things  are  attributable  to  the 
Jews.  He  does  not  say  in  so  many  words  that  the  destruc 
tion  of  this  pernicious  race  would  be  a  praiseworthy 
remedy,  but  he  leaves  it  to  be  plainly  understood. 

The  chaplain  —  I  must  give  him  due  credit  for  this  — 
does  not  agree  with  such  truculences:  he  is  a  good  man,  a 
gentle  Christian,  and  as  such  avoids  everything  coarse 
and  spiteful.  During  these  discussions  I  remain  obsti- 

35 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

nately  dumb,  for  I  cannot  contend  with  Cousin  Coriolan. 
The  eyes  of  his  yearning  are  turned  back  to  the  past, 
while  mine  look  to  the  future,  and  it  is  impossible,  while 
standing  back-to-back,  to  fence  with  him. 

And  do  I  hear  you  ask:  "Your  count,  your  employer, 
what  is  he  like?"  He?  —  A  dear  old  fellow:  I  cannot  say 
anything  else.  Genial,  jovial,  simple,  friendly,  gay.  He 
must  have  been  a  man  of  captivating  personality.  Now, 
indeed,  he  is  old  and  ill,  and  yet  his  sense  of  humor  has 
not  deserted  him. 

The  count  is  a  widower  and  childless.  He  had  two  chil 
dren,  but  lost  them  both  under  tragic  circumstances.  The 
daughter  —  a  marvelously  beautiful  girl  —  ran  off  with 
her  brother's  tutor.  At  that  time  the  countess  was  still 
living  —  a  terribly  haughty  and  hard-hearted  woman, 
and  nothing  would  induce  her  to  pardon  her  daughter  for 
this  step.  The  count  would  have  gladly  given  in,  but  the 
inexorable  woman  would  not  relent. 

In  a  few  years  the  daughter  died,  and  shortly  afterwards 
the  son  met  with  a  fatal  accident  in  a  boating-party.  It 
was  whispered  about  that  he  was  of  very  light  weight,  and 
that  he  had  showed  great  lack  of  love  and  respect  for  his 
parents:  consequently,  his  loss  was  not  such  a  severe 
blow  to  the  count,  although  it  deprived  him  of  his  only 
son  and  heir.  He  was  much  more  deeply  affected  by  the 
loss  of  his  daughter ;  in  the  first  place,  her  elopement  with  a 
man  who  was  regarded  as  unworthy  of  her,  and  then  her 
death.  But  time  has  healed  all  those  wounds.  The  cheer 
ful,  light-hearted  temperament  of  my  dear  count  (for  I 
really  love  the  man)  won  the  day.  He  had  the  reputation 
of  being  the  gayest  and  wittiest  cavalier  in  his  time,  and 
even  only  two  years  ago,  when  I  first  entered  his  house,  he 
was  in  the  happiest  state  of  mind  and  of  a  geniality  which 
simply  captivated  my  heart. 

Just  now,  indeed,  he  is  a  great  sufferer,  and  old  age, 
which  he  has  so  long  victoriously  resisted,  is  at  last  get 
ting  in  its  detestable  work.  He  is  not  and  has  never  been 
what  is  called  a  high  intelligence.  He  is  clever  with  a 

36 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

somewhat  superficial  cleverness,  without  great  depth  — 
without  complications,  without  subtlety,  but  abounding 
in  straightforward,  honest,  human  understanding.  His  wit 
never  stings  and  never  bites ;  it  merely  smiles  and  winks ; 
in  short,  my  poor  count  is,  as  I  rather  disrespectfully 
remarked  above,  a  dear  old  fellow. 

I  have  never  made  a  confidant  of  him  about  my  anony 
mous  poetizing:  he  has  no  inclination  for  poetry.  His 
reading  —  that  is,  what  I  read  to  him  —  consists  exclu 
sively  of  selections  from  the  daily  newspapers,  the  weekly 
comic  papers,  French  novels,  —  but  they  must  be 
piquant;  and  for  serious  pabulum:  memoirs  of  princes, 
generals,  and  statesmen.  Military  and  diplomatic  his 
tory,  especially  relating  to  the  time  in  which  he  took  an 
active  part,  interests  him.  But  all  this  has  inspired  me 
with  a  great  disgust  at  the  kettle  of  chatter  and  intrigue 
in  which  the  soup  of  the  unsuspecting  people's  destiny  is 
cooked.  Aye!  the  nations  have  no  suspicion  what  con 
temptible  means  the  great  men  who  make  universal  his 
tory  use,  what  petty  aims  they  pursue:  personal  jeal 
ousies  and  ambitions,  entanglements  of  lies  and  errors 
and  accidents,  whereof  are  born  the  mighty  events  which 
are  explained  as  the  expression  of  Divine  Will,  or  of  a 
scheme  of  creation  conditioned  by  natural  laws.  And, 
vice  versa,  the  great  men  high  up  know  nothing  of  the 
people:  they  fail  to  comprehend  their  sufferings  and 
hopes.  Their  awakening  and  stretching  of  limbs  they 
have  no  suspicion  of  ... 

Two  days  later. 

Since  I  wrote  the  above,  something  has  happened.  For 
some  time  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  the  count  was  con 
cealing  something  from  me.  If  his  attorney,  Dr.  Fixstern, 
came,  I  was  dismissed  from  the  room,  and  letters  ad 
dressed  to  him  were  not  as  usual  dictated  to  me,  but  were 
written  by  the  count  himself.  And  now  I  know  what  the 
secret  was ;  early  this  morning  the  count  confided  in  me : 
The  child  left  by  the  daughter  who  eloped  with  the  tutor 

37 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

has  turned  up,  and  the  grandfather  has  invited  the  young 
girl  to  make  her  home  at  the  Sielenburg.  She  will  be 
coming  now  in  a  few  days.  The  old  gentleman  is  de 
lighted. 

I  am  full  of  curiosity.  The  young  thing  will  scarcely 
feel  very  comfortable  at  the  Round  Table  which  I  de 
scribed  to  you.  Well,  later  in  the  summer  there  are  vari 
ous  visitors  from  the  neighboring  castles,  among  them 
young  people,  and  in  the  autumn  there  are  many  brilliant 
hunting-parties.  Of  course,  owing  to  my  position,  I  hold 
aloof  from  all  these  things.  My  world  is  not  this  world  of 
aristocratic  society  —  my  kingdom  is  that  of  the  imagina 
tion.  There  I  sometimes  indulge  in  revels  and  there  I 
hope  to  attain  some  rank  —  not  mediocre ;  there  ceases 
my  modesty.  Artists  must  not  be  —  inwardly  —  modest, 
else  they  are  not  artists.  Just  as  an  athlete  feels  his  mus 
cles,  so  must  the  artist  feel  his  power  of  creation.  A  host 
of  thoughts  press  forward  to  be  formulated,  and  these 
thoughts  are  elastic  and  swelling  like  an  athlete's  muscles! 
A  domain  which  no  Pegasus'  hoof  has  as  yet  ever  touched 
invites  me.  First  I  am  going  to  finish  my  drama,  which 
treats  of  a  social  problem,  and  then  I  shall  fly  away  to 
that  virgin  land  where  horizons  flooded  with  light  open 
out  before  me.  I  am  going  to  compose  the  epic  of  the  con 
quest  of  the  air.  ...  I  shall  fly  up  to  the  flaming  corona 
of  the  Sun,  and  from  that  I  will  pluck  down  forked  flames 
to  annihilate  all  that  is  low  and  common.  I  am  called 
away,  so  I  will  mail  this  and  will  write  again. 
Yours  ever, 

CHLODWIG  HELMER. 


CHAPTER  III 
FRANKA'S  NEW  HOME 

FRANKA  GARLETT  leaned  back  with  closed  eyes  in 
one  corner  of  the  compartment.  In  another  corner 
sat  Dr.  Fixstern,  in  whose  company  the  young  girl 
was  making  the  trip  to  her  new  home.  The  railway 
journey  had  already  lasted  four  hours  and  they  were 
not  far  from  their  destination. 

For  some  time  Franka  had  been  sitting  there  mo 
tionless,  as  if  she  were  asleep.  But  she  was  not  sleep 
ing  ;  she  wanted  undisturbed  to  give  herself  up  to  her 
thoughts.  Very  mixed  feelings  stirred  in  her  heart. 
When  she  called  up  the  idea  of  "home,"  which 
had  come  to  her  mind  at  the  first  revelation  of  the 
change  impending  in  her  destiny,  she  felt  excite 
ment  and  a  sense  of  joy;  but,  immediately,  this  was 
succeeded  by  a  certain  timidity.  "Home!"  —  that 
is  the  cherished  spot  where  all  one's  loves,  all  one's 
accustomed  habits,  all  one's  recollections  cluster; 
but  she  was  coming  to  an  unknown  place,  among 
absolutely  strange  people!  Even  though  Count 
Sielen  was  her  grandfather,  she  had  never  seen  him, 
never  even  thought  of  him;  between  him  and  her 
there  was  no  common  remembrance,  except  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  cruel  to  her  parents.  In  Count 
Sielen's  eyes,  Frank  Garlett  had  been  only  the 
shameless  brigand  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  daugh 
ter:  Count  Sielen  had  never  known  what  a  splendid 

39 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

man  this  unwelcome  son-in-law  had  been.  She  would 
tell  her  grandfather  that,  but  would  he  believe  it? 
And  would  she  be  able  to  love  the  old  man?  And 
would  the  great-aunt  accept  her?  After  the  descrip 
tion  which  Dr.  Fixstern  gave  of  her,  —  a  rather 
proud,  rather  bigoted,  rather  narrow-minded  old 
lady,  —  she  had  little  hope  that  she  would  find  a 
mutually  sympathetic  relationship  in  that  quarter. 
Ah,  she  was  so  alone,  so  alone  in  the  world,  after 
being  accustomed  to  confidential  comradeship  with 
her  beloved  father!  .  .  .  Two  tears  trickled  down  her 
cheeks. 

"Oh,  Miss  Garlett,"  cried  the  doctor,  "I  thought 
you  were  asleep,  and  there  you  are  crying!" 

Franka  straightened  herself  up:  "Oh,  I  was  think 
ing  of  my  poor  dead  father." 

"Think  rather  of  your  grandfather,  and  instead 
of  tormenting  yourself,  rejoice !  Just  think  what  an 
unexpected  piece  of  good  fortune  has  come  to  you." 

"You  are  right:  it  is  ungrateful  of  me." 

"Your  grandfather  will  assuredly  see  to  it  that 
you  are  suitably  married." 

"I  don't  intend  to  be  married." 

"You  don't  want  to  marry?" 

"Oh,  well,  perhaps;  why  not?  But  to  be  married 
off  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  understand  the  distinction.  But  now 
it  is  time  for  you  to  put  on  your  hat  and  I  will  get  the 
traveling-bag  down;  the  next  station  is  ours." 

Franka  pinned  on  her  hat;  it  was  black,  for  she 
still  wore  mourning,  but  it  was  pretty  and  very  be 
coming.  Under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Fixstern's  wife, 

40 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

she  had  provided  herself  with  new  and  elegant 
clothing,  and  she  was  not  insensible  to  the  comfort 
able  feeling  of  being  neatly  and  correctly  dressed, 
although  nothing  was  farther  from  her  nature  than 
vanity  and  a  love  of  finery. 

The  train  came  to  a  stop,  and  Franka's  heart 
began  to  beat:  so  now,  now  was  the  beginning  of  a 
new  life.  .  .  .  Would  there  be  any  one  from  the  castle 
to  meet  her  and  greet  her?  .  .  .  The  platform  was 
full  of  people,  but  merely  passengers  of  the  third 
class,  waiting  for  the  next  train  —  peasants,  market- 
women  with  baskets  or  bundles.  There  was  also  a 
servant  in  livery.  He  approached  the  coach  from 
which  Franka  and  her  escort  were  dismounting.  On 
the  street  in  front  of  the  station  an  automobile  was 
waiting  —  a  great  open  limousine,  the  white  lacquer 
of  which  glittered  in  the  sun.  The  chauffeur  was 
standing  beside  it  and  helped  Franka  to  enter.  It 
was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  she  had  ever  been 
in  such  a  vehicle.  Indeed,  a  new  life  in  every  respect ! 

Along  a  road  between  red-blooming  clover-fields, 
through  a  fir  forest,  the  branches  of  which  were 
loaded  with  bright  green  cones,  and  then  up  a  long 
avenue  of  ancient  chestnut  trees,  the  chauffeur  took 
them  toward  the  castle  with  its  towers  and  pin 
nacles,  its  bow-windows  and  verandas,  which  now 
began  to  be  visible  against  the  horizon  in  the  dis 
tance.  The  weather  was  warm,  but  the  air,  fragrant 
with  spring,  fanned  Franka's  face  with  refreshing 
coolness  as  the  machine  swiftly  sped  along.  Franka 
took  deep  breaths ;  her  cheeks  were  aglow  with  color 
and  a  smile  of  joy  played  around  her  young  mouth. 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  had  only  just  been  shedding  tears,  and  now  a 
keen  feeling  of  delight  swept  through  her  whole 
being.  The  future  must  bring  her  something  beau 
tiful  .  .  .  she  would  not  have  to  be  always  so 
alone  .  .  .  !  The  wide  world  is,  indeed,  a  savings 
bank  in  which  rich  funds  of  love  are  deposited,  and 
youth,  in  itself,  is  a  kind  of  checkbook. 

Along  park  drives  bordered  with  shrubbery,  past 
flower-beds  and  pools,  from  which  rose  glittering 
fountains,  flew  the  machine,  and  came  to  a  stop 
under  the  porte-cochere  of  the  castle.  Several  serv 
ants  stood  waiting  and  took  her  hand-luggage.  On 
the  steps  above,  Franka  was  received  by  the  count's 
sister. 

"Welcome,  dear  child.  .  .  .  How  are  you,  Dr. 
Fixstern  ...  so  you  have  brought  the  child  with  you 
safely,  have  you?  Come,  Franka,  we  will  go  directly 
to  my  brother  —  he  is  waiting  for  you  in  great  an 
ticipation." 

The  lady  spoke  in  a  friendly  tone,  and  her  face 
wore  a  friendly  expression ;  but  the  doctor,  who  knew 
her  well,  could  not  help  perceiving  that  both  in  her 
voice  and  in  the  expression  of  her  face  there  was  a 
tone  and  a  look  of  insincerity. 

Through  a  long  corridor  adorned  with  potted 
plants  and  hung  with  paintings,  Franka  was  con 
ducted  into  another  wing  and  ushered  into  the 
count's  apartment.  It  was  a  room  paneled  with 
dark  leather  and  filled  with  ancient  furniture.  In  a 
tall  armchair  near  the  window  sat  the  count,  a  pil 
low  behind  his  head  and  a  covering  over  his  knees. 
Pale  and  ill  as  he  looked,  he  was  a  handsome  old  man. 

42 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Noble,  regular  features,  his  white  beard  trimmed 
close  and  to  a  point,  large  blue  eyes  beaming  with 
friendliness,  his  hair  silver-white,  but  still  brushed 
up  in  a  thick  mass  above  his  forehead. 

"Here,  Eduard,  I  bring  you  your  granddaughter. 
.  .  .  Come,  Dr.  Fixstern,  let  us  go  into  the  adjoining 
room;  we  will  leave  the  two  alone  for  a  little." 

A  young  man,  who  was  sitting  in  one  corner  of  the 
room  at  a  table  covered  with  writings,  stood  up  and 
was  about  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Remain,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Helmer,  and  continue 
your  writing;  you  will  not  disturb  me.  And  you,  my 
girl,  come  nearer,  quite  close,  so  that  I  may  look  at 
you.  .  .  .  My  eyes  are  growing  dim  ..."  He  held 
out  to  her  a  slim  white  hand. 

Franka  went  to  him  with  quick  steps,  knelt  on  the 
footstool  that  was  placed  near  his  chair,  and  kissed 
the  hand  he  offered  her:  "Grandfather!  How  kind 
of  you!" 

He  laid  his  hand  on  her  head,  and  bent  her  face 
back. 

"So  it  is!  you  are  the  living  picture  of  your  poor 
mother.  Remarkable!  I  hope,  however,  you  will 
not  resemble  her  in  all  respects  ...  at  least,  that  you 
will  not  also  run  away  out  of  this  with  some  young 
rascal  ..." 

Franka  sprang  up. 

"Count  .  .  .  this  can  be  no  home  for  me,  where 
my  father  is  to  be  insulted." 

"There,  there!  not  so  fast!  I  like  it  in  you,  that 
you  spring  to  the  defense  of  your  beloved  father.  I 
beg  your  pardon.  Besides,  I  did  not  mean  anything 

43 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

so  very  bad.  The  word  'rascal '  in  my  mouth  carries 
no  insult  —  I  myself  was  one  when  I  was  young,  and 
I  should  be  very  glad  if  any  one  would  call  me  an  old 
rascal  now  —  but  here  I  must  sit,  tied  down  to  this 
chair  .  .  .  '  Count ! '  I  will  not  let  you  scold  me  that 
way;  just  say,  as  you  did  so  prettily  a  moment  ago, 
—  'Grandfather.'  .  .  .  And  I  have  still  another  thing 
to  ask  your  forgiveness  for:  that  it  was  so  long  before 
I  took  any  notice  of  you.  .  .  .  That  was  cruel  to  you 
and  cruel  to  the  memory  of  my  daughter.  .  .  .  She 
made  a  mistake  .  .  .  but  of  all  mistakes  is  not  im 
placability  one  of  the  worst  and  stupidest?  —  So, 
little  girl,  be  forgiving  .  .  .  call  me  'Grandfather' 
.  .  .  that  is  right;  a  great  French  poet  has  written 
a  book  entitled  'L'Art  d'etre  Grandpere."' 

"Yes,  Victor  Hugo,"  assented  Franka,  nodding. 

"You  seem  to  be  well  read.  .  .  .  Now,  you  see,  I 
am  beginning  rather  late  to  learn  that  art,  but  I 
shall  be  an  industrious  scholar.  —  And  now,  will  you 
be  conducted  to  your  room?  I  feel  ill  again  ...  a 
real  cross  sickness  is  ...  go,  dear  child." 

Franka  was  about  to  bend  over  the  old  gentle 
man's  hand  to  kiss  it  again,  but  he  lifted  her  head  up 
and  imprinted  a  kiss  on  her  brow. 

An  hour  later  Franka  had  already  finished  the 
unpacking  of  her  possessions;  she  had  disposed  her 
books  and  photographs,  and  this  communicated  a 
somewhat  cozy  appearance  to  the  long  unoccupied 
chamber,  with  its  stiff,  old-fashioned  furniture.  It 
was  an  enormous  room  with  four  windows  looking 
down  into  the  park.  Gay-flowered  chintz  covered 
the  chairs  and  sofas  and  the  same  material  served  as 

44 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

hangings  for  the  windows  and  the  curtains  of  the 
bed.  Adjoining  was  a  little  toilet-room  and  bath 
room.  Next  to  this  was  the  chamber  of  a  maid 
whose  services  were  at  the  disposal  of  the  "gnadiges 
Fraulein." 

So  new,  so  unwonted  was  all  this  magnificence! 
Ought  not  all  these  unexpected,  these  truly  brilliant 
surroundings  to  have  awakened  a  measureless  joy  in 
Franka,  who  had  spent  her  young  days  in  the  midst 
of  such  privations?  But  why  was  she  so  sad? 

Ah,  yes,  if  her  father  had  only  lived  and  she  might 
have  shared  these  delights  with  him,  or  at  least  have 
told  him  about  them.  .  .  . 

Joys  are  like  tones  —  in  order  to  sound,  they  must 
have  resonance. 


CHAPTER  IV 

LIFE   IN   SIELENBURG   CASTLE 

FIVE  months  had  passed  and  a  cold  gray  autumn  had 
set  in  with  pallid  suns,  soggy  mists,  wailing  tempests. 
As  melancholy  as  the  weather  was  Franka's  mood. 
Sielenburg  had  not  proved  a  home  for  her:  she  felt 
that  she  was  a  stranger,  that  she  was  in  exile.  Her 
grandfather,  who  showed  her  friendly  affection  and 
to  whom  her  heart  went  out  in  sympathy,  grew  con 
stantly  worse,  so  that  more  and  more  rarely  he  sum 
moned  her  to  his  side,  and  when  she  came,  he  had 
but  little  to  say ;  he  merely  would  ask  her  to  tell  him 
about  her  past,  to  describe  her  early  life,  and  to  talk 
about  her  parents. 

He  asked  her  very  little  about  her  present  exist 
ence,  and  even  if  he  had  done  so  she  assuredly 
would  not  have  told  him  that  she  was  wretchedly 
unhappy;  that  the  great-aunt  always  treated  her 
with  the  utmost  coldness  and  reserve;  that  the 
insipid  conversation  of  the  two  other  old  ladies  "got 
on  her  nerves";  that  the  cousin,  with  his  views  ex 
pressed  so  arrogantly  and  dogmatically,  —  views  so 
diametrically  opposed  to  all  that  she  had  learned 
from  her  father,  —  still  more  affected  her,  indeed, 
caused  her  real  agony  —  all  this  and  much  more  she 
could  not  confide  to  her  grandfather  without  trou 
bling  him,  without  making  him  think  her  ungrate 
ful.  Of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  castle,  Mr.  Helmer, 

46 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  young  secretary,  would  have  been  the  most  sym 
pathetic,  perhaps  for  the  very  reason  that  he  was 
young,  and  youth  feels  drawn  by  irresistible  power 
to  youth;  but  she  came  scarcely  at  all  into  contact 
with  him,  because  he  was  rarely  present  at  meals,  and 
when  he  was,  he  took  no  part  in  the  conversation. 

Only  once  had  he  made  an  exception  to  this  re 
serve.  At  table  Cousin  Coriolan  had  spoken  about 
the  dirigible  balloon:  he  said:  "So  then,  the  thing 
seems  to  be  feasible." 

"And  you  remember,  Baron,"  remarked  the 
priest,  "that  you  have  always  expressed  the  opinion 
that  all  these  aeronautical  and  aviationary  projects 
were  'the  utmost  nonsense,'  'crack-brained  balder 
dash,'  'lunatic  absurdity,'  'the  summit  of  imbecil 
ity  '  —  I  noticed  your  words  particularly  —  I  like 
your  strong  expressions  ..." 

"Well,  well,  Chaplain,  to  err  is  human  .  .  .  but  I 
venture  even  now  to  predict  that  nothing  practical 
or  useful  will  ever  come  out  of  them  .  .  .  only  catas 
trophes.  .  .  .  What  would  happen  if  such  a  monster 
should  fall  on  the  Emperor's  roof  at  Schonbrunn? 
.  .  .  For  reconnoitering  in  war,  it  would  be  extremely 
dangerous,  for  naturally  the  enemy  would  shoot  up 
at  them.  The  only  good  that  they  would  accomplish 
would  be  the  scattering  down  of  explosives  —  but 
they  would  never  be  able  to  take  any  great  amount 
up  with  them  and  the  mark  from  such  a  height  would 
be  very  difficult  to  hit — it  would  be  like  spitting 
from  the  balcony  on  a  nickel  lying  on  the  sidewalk, 
the  much-vaunted  airship  business  will  in  the  long 
run—" 

47 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Make  of  man  another  man,"  interrupted  Chlod- 
wig  Helmer,  raising  his  voice.  Franka  pricked  up 
her  ears.  "Behind  the  azure  door  which  has  been 
flung  open  streams  a  light,  destined  to  breathe 
new  souls  —  aerial  souls  —  into  new  generations  of 
men." 

The  rest  of  the  company  exchanged  glances  as 
much  as  to  say:  "What  is  the  matter  with  the  man? 
What  has  got  into  him?" 

Franka  would  gladly  have  heard  him  continue. 

"Please,  Mr.  Helmer,  explain  what  you  mean  . . ." 

But  he  shook  his  head  and  said  no  more. 

She  occasionally  met  him  in  her  grandfather's 
room;  but  there  also  he  generally  remained  silent. 
If  he  spoke,  as  he  did  only  to  answer  some  direct 
question,  she  found  something  particularly  attrac 
tive  both  in  the  sound  of  his  voice  and  in  the  choice 
of  his  words. 

He  was  not  handsome  —  far  from  it ;  he  would  be 
rather  more  likely  to  be  called  ugly ;  but  it  was  not 
a  common  ugliness,  and  whatever  else  he  was,  Mr. 
Helmer  was  certainly  a  gentleman. 

Franka  had  not  failed  to  notice  that  she  inspired 
the  young  man  with  admiration:  it  betrayed  itself 
in  his  eyes,  in  his  attitude,  in  the  intonations  of  his 
voice.  It  was  a  thoroughly  respectful  admiration 
which  strove  to  hide  and  not  to  betray  itself,  and 
consequently  Franka  responded  to  it  with  many  a 
gracious  word  and  friendly  smile. 

But  an  end  soon  came  to  this  harmless  little  flirta 
tion,  if  it  could  be  called  such.  Six  weeks  after 
Franka's  arrival,  Helmer  was  obliged  to  take  his 

48 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

departure  from  Sielenburg.  Cousin  Albertine  had 
indulged  in  some  idle  gossip  concerning  the  two. 
"Evidently,"  she  said,  "that  crazy  secretary  is  fall 
ing  in  love  with  Franka."  Something  peculiar  also 
was  noticed  in  Franka's  behavior,  and  after  her 
mother's  escapade  —  the  apple  does  not  fall  far  from 
the  tree  —  and  it  was  to  be  feared  that  some  similar 
fatality  might  ensue.  .  .  .  These  and  other  insinua 
tions  made  to  the  count's  sister,  and  by  her  com 
municated  to  the  count  himself,  resulted  in  the 
young  man's  being  dismissed.  After  his  departure 
Franka  felt  still  more  isolated. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  several  times,  but  not 
frequently,  for  an  hour  or  two  during  the  afternoon, 
callers  from  the  neighborhood  came  to  the  castle, 
and  were  served  with  a  cup  of  tea  in  the  garden. 
The  conversation  always  revolved  around  the  same 
topics:  society  and  family  news,  the  prospects  of 
the  harvest,  hunting  experiences,  chronicles  of  sick 
nesses,  and  the  results  of  "cures"  at  the  sea-baths, 
gossip  of  the  court  mixed  in  with  a  dash  of  politics 
(from  the  agrarian  point  of  view),  and  with  lamenta 
tions  over  the  degeneracy  of  the  times  (from  the 
clerical  point  of  view). 

It  devolved  on  Franka,  as  the  daughter  of  the 
house,  to  pour  the  tea,  yet  the  others  treated  her 
with  a  shade  of  condescension,  as  if  she  were  only 
a  kind  of  companion.  She  could  never  even  try 
to  insinuate  herself  into  the  good  graces  of  these 
strangers;  she  remained  taciturn  and  reserved.  The 
topics  of  conversation  and  the  questions  that  occu 
pied  the  lives  of  this  little  circle  scarcely  appealed  to 

49 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

her;  perhaps,  if  she  had  grown  up  and  been  edu 
cated  among  them,  she  might  have  found  edification 
in  it,  but  it  was  all  strange  to  her  —  on  the  other 
hand,  the  others  had  no  comprehension  of  her  aspira 
tions,  her  ambitions,  her  realm  of  thought. 

One  day  she  had  a  surprising  encounter.  As  she 
entered  the  salon  her  eyes  fell  on  a  stranger  who  was 
sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  usual  circle.  His  back  was 
turned  to  the  door,  so  she  could  not  see  his  face,  but 
there  was  something  strikingly  familiar  in  his  figure 
and  attitude.  And  with  good  reason  —  for  as  she 
came  nearer,  Countess  Adele  introduced  him  to  her 
as  Baron  Malhof.  He  manifested  no  surprise;  he 
evidently  knew  of  the  altered  circumstances  of 
Franka's  life.  He  made  a  low  bow. 

"It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  meet  you  again,  Miss 
Garlett." 

"What,  do  you  know  my  niece?" 

"Yes,  I  made  Miss  Garlett's  acquaintance  a  short 
time  ago  and  learned  to  have  a  high  regard  for  her." 

Malhof  sat  next  to  Franka  at  the  tea-table.  Unob 
served  by  the  others,  he  said  to  her  in  an  under 
tone  :  — 

"  You  seem  to  be  still  incensed  with  me  —  but  you 
ought  to  know  what  I  have  done  for  you.  I  have 
just  been  in  to  see  your  grandfather.  I  was  well 
aware  that  you  were  making  your  home  here,  for  I 
had  learned  the  whole  story  from  your  landlady  of 
whom  I  have  frequently  inquired  about  what  you 
are  doing.  And  to-day  I  told  your  grandfather  the 
whole  story  of  the  little  comedy  in  which  you  and  I 
were  the  actors  ..." 

50 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"You  did...  ?" 

"Yes,  although  the  part  I  played  was  rather  de 
plorable  ;  for  that  very  reason  yours  was  all  the  more 
brilliant,  and  I  felt  that  I  owed  it  to  you  to  make  this 
reparation.  Count  Sielen  had  a  right  to  know  what 
a  brave,  high-minded  maiden  his  new-found  grand 
daughter  is." 

"Was  that  your  opinion  of  my  behavior,  Baron 
Malhof?" 

"Not  at  the  first  moment  —  to  tell  the  honest 
truth;  at  that  time  I  was  quite  vexed  and  thought 
your  behavior  simply  —  pardon  me  the  expression ! 
—  simply  stupid,  terribly  vieuxjeu;  —  but  here  is  a 
somewhat  old-fashioned  milieu  where  all  such  heroic 
actions  of  virtue  awake  a  response  and  I  said  to 
myself:  'If  I  tell  the  whole  story  to  the  old  gentle 
man,  it  may  prove  useful  to  the  young  lady  who 
so  abused  me  .  .  .  that  letter  you  tore  into  bits !  —  it 
will  put  her  into  a  beautiful  light  and  make  her  still 
dearer  to  the  old  man's  heart,'  —  as  you  see,  I  am 
capable  also  of  noble  impulses.  There  is  one  thing  I 
should  like  to  ask  you:  Are  you  happy?" 

"How  could  I  fail  to  regard  myself  as  happy?  It 
would  be  sheer  ingratitude  toward  fate!" 

"Well,  yes,  'to  regard  yourself  as  happy,'  but  'to 
feel  happy'?  Life  cannot  be  very  gay  among  all 
these  wigs.  ...  I  do  not  often  come  here  —  only 
when  I  am  visiting  their  neighbors  at  the  castle  of 
Dornhof,  where  I  generally  spend  a  week  almost 
every  year.  Then  I  make  my  respects  here  and  I 
have  always  found  the  house  tedious  to  the  last  de 
gree,  except  when  the  old  count  used  to  enliven  it 

51 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

with  his  presence ;  but  for  the  most  part  during  the 
last  few  years  he  has  been  away  traveling.  Of  course, 
I  had  heard  about  the  family  romance,  —  the  daugh 
ter  who  ran  off  with  the  tutor,  —  but  that  you  were 
the  result  of  that  elopement,  I  never  suspected  until 
I  made  a  fool  of  myself  about  you.  .  .  .  Do  not  look 
so  angry;  that  folly  is  past  and  gone.  ...  I  have 
taken  my  place  toward  you  —  especially  since  I 
have  confessed  to  your  grandfather  —  as  a  kind  of 
honorary  uncle." 

On  this  episode  Franka  looked  back  with  satis 
faction. 

On  the  other  hand,  she  remembered  something 
very  unpleasant  that  had  happened  to  her  during 
the  early  days  of  her  new  life.  She  had  been  sum 
moned  at  a  quite  unusual  hour  to  her  great-aunt's 
chamber.  She  had  scarcely  crossed  the  threshold 
when  she  realized  that  she  had  been  invited  to  ap 
pear  as  a  defendant  before  a  criminal  court.  Behind 
the  table  sat  the  old  Countess  Schollendorf  in  her 
sternest  aspect,  with  her  headdress  askew,  betoken 
ing  inward  excitement;  next  her,  in  the  capacity  of 
an  assistant,  Aunt  Albertine,  and  on  the  table  as 
corpus  delicti  two  books  which  Franka  instantly 
recognized  as  her  property. 

"Come  in;  sit  down  and  explain  yourself:  How 
came  you  by  these  books?"  This  was  spoken  in  a 
harsh,  inquisitorial  tone. 

The  books  were  Prince  Kropotkin's  "Memoirs  of 
a  Revolutionist"  and  Bolsche's  "Liebesleben  in  der 
Natur." 

Franka  had  calmly  taken  a  seat. 

52 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"I  might  rather  ask,"  she  replied,  "how  come 
these  books  here,  when  they  were  locked  up  in  my 
bookcase?" 

Miss  Albertine,  with  a  honeyed  expression,  put  in 
her  word :  — 

"My  dear  girl,  this  matter  concerns  your  own 
good :  I  myself  brought  the  books  down.  The  book 
case  was  not  locked;  the  key  was  in  the  door;  I  did 
not  break  it  open.  It  is  perfectly  natural  that  we 
should  be  interested  in  what  is  read  by  a  young  per 
son  over  whose  well-being  we  have  to  watch.  The 
other  books  there  I  do  not  know.  ...  I  should  have 
to  read  them  first ;  but  the  titles  of  these  two  are  suf 
ficient  to  condemn  them.  So  I  brought  them  down 
to  Aunt  Adele.  We  have  glanced  through  them 
and  .  .  ." 

"And,"  said  the  superior  judge,  taking  the  words 
out  of  the  other's  mouth,  "I  had  you  summoned  to 
tell  you  that  you  are  to  hand  over  to  us  your  whole 
library  —  it  was  evidently  your  inheritance  from 
Professor  Garlett,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  Free 
mason.  .  .  .  And  I  will  speak  to  you  with  the  utmost 
frankness:  you  must  know  that  a  young  girl  of  our 
circles  does  not  make  the  acquaintance  of  revolu 
tionists  and  their  works.  .  .  .  These  are  very,  very 
pernicious  theories  —  the  worst  possible.  And  then 
Socialism  and  Feminism  and  Pacifism,  and  all  these 
new  '  isms '  such  as  are  coming  into  existence  in  our 
day.  .  .  .  And  now  that  '  Liebesleben ' !  I  trust  you 
have  not  read  it!" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have  —  I  read  it  with  my  father." 

"And  are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself?  This  is 

53 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

certainly  the  most  extraordinary  thing  I  ever  heard 
of!  Why,  one  learns  there  how  herrings  break  the 
sixth  commandment  —  it  is  positively  disgusting! 
Do  you  not  know  that  there  are  things  which  a  sen 
sible  young  maiden  —  I  will  not  say  of  our  circles, 
but  any  sensible  maiden  —  ought  to  have  no  sus 
picion  of?  What  have  you  to  say  in  your  defense?" 

"Nothing." 

Franka  felt  as  if  she  would  choke  and  she  uttered 
the  word  with  a  deep  breath. 

"What  does  this  all  mean?  Do  you  wish  to  rouse 
my  anger?" 

"Do  not  get  excited,  Adele,"  interrupted  Miss 
Albertine  appeasingly;  "just  think  —  the  poor  child 
has  not  enjoyed  the  right  sort  of  education ;  she  in 
herited  her  mother's  frivolous  nature  and  on  her 
father's  side  she  is  of  no  family  at  all  —  therefore,  she 
lacks  the  instinct  of  what  becomes  our  world.  .  .  . 
Yes,  you  are  lacking  in  many  respects,  Franka,  and 
if  I  speak  in  all  sincerity,  —  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  be  anything  else  than  sincere,  —  it  is  only  with 
the  intention  of  being  useful  to  you.  You  are  still 
young  enough  to  learn  a  good  deal,  to  change  and  to 
become  worthy  of  the  great  advantage  that  you  are 
enjoying  here." 

Franka's  throat  felt  as  if  a  tight  band  was  fas 
tened  around  it.  It  occurred  to  her  to  run  away ;  she 
was  almost  tempted  to  kill  herself  • —  to  jump  out  of 
the  window.  .  .  .  But  after  a  while,  as  Miss  Albert- 
ine's  discourse  kept  on  its  even  flow,  she  recovered 
her  self-control. 

"I  ask  only  one  thing,"  she  said  —  "that  this 

54 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

whole  charge  be  brought  before  my  grandfather.  I 
will  abide  by  his  decision." 

"  Do  you  really  wish  this?  I  had  intended  tc  spare 
you  this  disgrace,  and  was  going  to  say  nothing  to 
my  brother;  but  if  you  yourself  desire  it  ...  very 
well,  I  will  send  and  find  out  if  we  can  see  him." 

When  an  affirmative  answer  was  brought,  the 
three  ladies  betook  themselves  to  the  count's  apart 
ment.  Miss  Albertine  held  the  corpus  delicti  under 
her  arm.  The  count  was  alone.  He  was  sitting  in  his 
accustomed  place  in  the  reclining-chair,  and  looked 
exceptionally  lively  and  well. 

"What!  Three  man  strong  you  march  along!"  he 
exclaimed,  greeting  them. 

"  Yes,  grandfather,  you  see  here  a  judge,  a  witness, 
and  a  defendant  —  and  I  am  the  defendant ;  now  you 
are  to  be  the  supreme  judicial  court." 

"Oho!  and  is  there  no  advocate  for  the  defense?" 

"I  shall  be  my  own  advocate." 

"Very  good:  now  what  is  the  complaint?" 

"  It  is  no  joking  matter,"  said  the  Countess  Adele. 

"Indeed,  it  is  not,"  said  Miss  Albertine  with  em 
phasis.  "It  concerns  Franka's  own  good;  else  we 
should  not  have  bothered  you  with  it.  Your  condi 
tion  demands  perfect  quiet  —  you  look  very  miser 
able.  .  .  .  Forgive  me,  but  I  must  tell  you  the  truth 
only  for  love  of  you  so  that  you  may  take  care  of 
yourself." 

"Yes,  yes,  your  frankness  is  touching.  But  to  the 
business.  ..." 

The  two  old  ladies,  using  almost  the  identical 
words  as  before,  formulated  their  complaint  and  at 

55 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  same  time  handed  him  the  books  that  were 
under  suspicion. 

When  they  had  had  their  say,  Franka  cried :  "  May 
I  now  offer  my  defense?  " 

The  count  raised  his  hand.  " No,  what  is  the  use? 
I  see  clearly  how  the  whole  matter  stands  and  can 
render  my  judgment.  A  crime,  at  least  a  very  de 
testable  misdemeanor,  has  been  committed  —  or, 
rather,  a  whole  series  of  misdemeanors:  —  looting  of 
others'  property;  inquisitiveness  and  espionage;  tale 
bearing  and  making  charges;  injury  and  insult; 
attempted  moral  constraint  and  tyranny!" 

"But,  Eduard,"  exclaimed  the  old  countess  re 
proachfully,  "do  you  blame  us  instead  of  th's  erring 
child?" 

"Most  certainly,  I  blame  you.  Franka  is  neither 
in  the  path  of  error,  nor  is  she  a  child.  She  has  not 
been  brought  up  as  you  would  have  brought  up  your 
daughters,  and  she  has  different  ideas.  Has  she  at 
tempted  to  force  these  ideas  on  you?  Has  she  ever 
tactlessly  and  offensively  expressed  her  ideas  in 
order  to  bring  yours  into  unfavorable  contrast?" 

"No,  she  has  done  nothing  of  that  kind.  On  the 
contrary,  she  has  hypocritically  kept  her  terrible 
ideas,  imbibed  from  these  terrible  books,  quite  to 
herself." 

"Why  do  you  say  'hypocritically'?  I  call  it  tact 
ful.  If  one  lives  with  people  who  belong  to  another 
world  of  ideas,  it  is  right  to  avoid  bringing  up 
the  discussion  of  questions  whereon  they  would 
differ;  and  so  people,  even  though  they  think  so 
differently,  can  get  along  together  very  congenially. 

56 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Moreover,  there  is  nothing  so  very  terrible  about  the 
two  books  —  I  happen  to  know  them.  Bolsche  is  a 
scientist;  Kropotkin  an  idealist.  I  do  not  exactly 
share  their  point  of  view;  I  am  an  old  country  squire, 
and  have  taken  little  interest  in  the  natural  sciences 
and  social  problems;  but  I  know  that  we  live  at  a 
time  when  much  that  is  new  is  crowding  out  the  old. 
We  can't  make  all  shoes  on  one  last,  and  we  cannot 
expect  our  grandchildren  to  be  educated  exactly  as 
our  fathers  were  educated.  And  as  far  as  education 
goes,  certainly  nothing  more  needs  be  said  about 
Franka's.  She  will  be  of  age  in  a  few  months:  I  had 
her  come  here  to  a  home,  not  to  a  young  ladies' 
boarding-school.  I  will  not  put  up  with  her  life  being 
spoiled  by  the  others  in  this  house." 

"Oh!  how  good  and  kind  you  are!"  stammered 
Franka,  who  had  once  more  knelt  down  on  the  foot 
stool  near  Sielen's  reclining-chair. 

' '  Never  mind ,  my  girl ;  don' t  bother  your  head  about 

it.  The  aunts  meant  well But  now  I  will  ask  you 

to  leave  me  for  a  while.  The  affair  has  agitated  me." 

That  ended  the  incident.  To  be  sure,  a  little  bit 
terness  remained,  but  the  two  old  ladies  from  that 
time  forth  avoided  any  nursery-governess  tone 
toward  the  young  girl.  The  sick  master's  will  was 
law  on  the  Sielenburg. 

Still  another  incident,  somewhat  later,  produced 
a  still  deeper  impression.  It  was  a  letter.  Almost 
never  did  the  postman  bring  Franka  any  mail.  In 
all  the  more  excitement  she  tore  open  the  envelope 
which  she  found  one  fine  morning  lying  on  her 
breakfast-tray.  It  was  in  an  unknown  hand  and 

57 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

unsigned.  After  she  read  it,  she  easily  guessed  who 
its  writer  was. 

VIENNA,  August  2,  1909. 

My  greetings  to  you,  Franka!  As  an  actual  man  I  am 
not  justified  in  addressing  you  thus  familiarly,  but  this  is 
only  a  kind  of  wave-motion  from  soul  to  soul.  The  reason 
for  this  letter  is,  that  you  appeared  to  me  last  night  in 
a  dream.  You  looked  sad  and  troubled.  Something  of 
questioning  and  yearning  was  expressed  in  your  face  and 
was  evident  in  your  outstretched  arms.  In  what  direc 
tion  would  your  desires,  your  longings,  your  questionings 
wing  their  flight?  Your  surroundings  will  give  no  fulfill 
ment  of  them,  no  answer  to  them.  Perhaps  I  may  be  able 
to  serve  as  a  guide  —  perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  solve  some 
of  the  riddles  for  you.  And  since  you  have  appeared  to  me 
in  a  dream  —  and  because  I  am  fond  of  you  —  I  venture 
to  approach  you  as  a  bodyless  teacher,  a  formless  brother, 
a  lover  who  hopes  for  nothing.  Or  rather  —  do  not  call 
it  presumptuous!  —  I  come  to  you  as  a  priest.  I  have 
religious  consolation  in  readiness  for  you  and  I  will  lay 
down  religious  commandments  for  you. 

Yet,  let  this  be  for  the  last.  We  will  first  speak  of 
worldly  things.  The  question  which  a  pretty  girl  of 
twenty  asks  of  fate  —  even  though  she  does  not  acknowl 
edge  it  to  herself  —  is,  "Shall  I  be  happily  married?" 
She  might  just  as  well  ask,  "Shall  I  find  a  needle  in  a 
haystack?"  For  it  is  just  as  difficult,  out  of  the  hundred 
thousand  chances  of  an  unhappy  marriage,  to  secure  the 
one  slender  chance  of  a  happy  one,  although  every  young 
woman  believes  that  for  her  particularly  there  are  several 
ready  for  choice.  And  the  claims  are  not  modest.  Dozens 
of  conditions  cluster  around  the  idea  of  "happiness"  — 
above  all,  love.  And  in  it  are  united  all  the  attributes 
and  aspects  of  this  manifold  phenomenon :  —  the  platonic 
and  erotic;  passion,  sentimentality,  devotion,  sweet  tor 
ment  and  tearful  ecstasy,  hot  desire  and  the  full  and 
peaceful  possession  —  and  this  whole  medley,  presumably 

58 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  last  as  long  as  life,  based  on  eternal  faithfulness  .  .  .  (il 
faut  en  rabattre  1} 

But  love  alone  is  not  sufficient.  To  happiness,  as 
dreamed  by  the  young  maiden,  some  other  things  are 
needed:  if  not  wealth,  at  least  perfect  pecuniary  inde 
pendence,  a  comfortable  and  fairly  elegant  household, 
continued  good  health,  social  recognition,  pleasant  occu 
pation,  pretty  toilettes  —  perhaps  also  handsome  chil 
dren.  I  am  speaking  of  the  average  girl,  not  of  the  ultra 
modern  type  before  whom  a  quite  special  expression  of 
personality  is  held  up,  or  from  whom  the  well-known 
"call  of  motherhood"  is  extorted. 

To  that  class  you  do  not  belong ;  you  are  not  eccentric, 
you  are  calm  and  reflective,  but  assuredly  you  are  also 
hungry  for  happiness. 

Now  the  question  for  you  is:  "Will  Destiny  pay  the 
note  which  Youth  and  Beauty  have  drawn  on  her?" 
Who  can  tell?  It  is  a  matter  of  accident.  Accident  is  only 
another  name  for  Fate,  and  cannot  give  you  any  remedy 
against  her  tricks.  Consequently  we  must  possess  some 
thing  to  raise  us  above  all  perils,  above  poverty  and  lone 
liness,  above  illness  and  sorrow,  yes,  verily,  above  the 
terrors  of  death ! 

If  you  had  been  educated  in  a  convent,  such  a  talisman 
would  have  been  put  into  your  possession :  the  knowledge 
that  you  were  a  child  of  God,  the  belief  in  happiness 
beyond  the  grave,  the  union  with  all  that  is  sacred  in 
the  eternal  and  in  the  infinite.  But  this  golden  talisman 
would  have  been  handed  to  you  in  a  tin  capsule  of  dog 
mas,  and  you,  like  so  many  others  to  whose  riper  taste 
and  judgment  the  capsule  no  longer  appealed,  would  have 
flung  the  whole  thing  away,  contents  and  cover ;  or,  like  so 
many  others,  you  would  have  only  clung  to  the  outward 
wrapping  as  a  kind  of  symbol,  as  a  ceremonial  necessity. 

At  the  present  time,  in  this  country,  it  is  a  part  of  good 
form  to  be  pious.  By  assiduous  church  attendance,  by 
friendly  intercourse  with  the  clergy,  by  scorn  and  con 
tempt  for  all  free  thinking,  one  tickets  one's  self  as  belong- 

59 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ing  to  fine  society.  They  are  mere  forms,  to  be  sure,  but 
how  can  the  man  and  the  woman  of  society  differentiate 
themselves  from  the  ordinary  mass  of  humanity  if  not  by 
the  observance  of  forms?  Signing  the  cross,  as  one  sits  at 
table,  —  the  way  it  is  done  of  late  in  aristocratic  houses, 
—  is  not  a  mark  of  reverence,  but  a  "correct"  gesture  — 
equal  to  the  conventional  court  curtsy. 

I  would  not  wish  to  imply  that  there  are  not  actually 
honest  believers  who  in  spite  of  the  tin  capsule  penetrate 
to  the  golden  center  of  the  talisman  and  are  thereby  ele 
vated  and  strengthened.  "  Be  good ! "  is  certainly  the  pro- 
foundest  meaning  of  every  religious  imperative  —  honor 
to  the  man  who  with  voluntary  obedience  listens  to  this 
commandment  by  reason  of  his  faith. 

You  were  not  educated  in  a  nunnery  —  as  I  happen  to 
know.  Do  you  possess  that  fervent  Something,  by  means 
of  which  a  person  is  raised  above  all  the  eventualities  of 
life  and  above  one's  self?  That  I  do  not  know.  Let  me 
explain  to  you  what  I  understand  by  this  "Something": 
let  me  be  for  half  an  hour  your  catechist ! 

This  is  the  mystery :  —  Recognize  as  your  home,  that 
is  to  say  as  the  place  to  which  you  belong,  a  domain  larger 
than  your  house,  than  your  family,  than  your  parish,  than 
your  earth  —  the  universe.  You  belong  to  it :  it  belongs  to 
you.  Religionists  have  an  inkling  of  this  truth  and  they 
call  it  "the  fatherhood  of  God."  Science  has  investigated 
it  and  here  it  is  called  "indestructibility"  and  "homo 
geneity  of  matter"  and  "eternal  conservation  of  all 
energy."  This  guarantees  you  immortality.  The  part 
that  you  play  in  the  great  world-drama  is  important,  just 
as  every  one  else's  is,  and  it  is  never  played  to  the  end. 

Do  not  shrug  your  shoulders  and  say:  "What  is  the  use 
of  a  continued  existence  if,  in  another  life,  I  do  not  remem 
ber  the  former;  if  my  ego  has  disappeared?"  Certainly 
"your1'  ego,  in  its  present  form,  is  lost,  but  in  the  new 
form  you  will  feel  an  ego  in  similar  degree.  Is  your  con 
sciousness,  your  inner  sense  of  life,  lessened  by  the  fact 
that  you  do  not  remember  the  existences  through  which 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

you  have  passed  in  the  infinity  behind  you?  The  past  ego 
was  not  "another  one,"  nor  will  the  ones  that  follow  be, 

—  they  all  are  a  part  of  the  same  ego  of  the  universe, 
divided  billions  and  trillions  of  tinies.   If  one  has  learned 
to  feel  one's  self  as  a  constituent  of  the  eternal  circle  of 
life,  if  one  knows  that  one  is  akin  to  the  plants  and  the 
stars,  if  one  feels  in  one's  inmost  soul  the  sparks  flashing 
from  the  flame  of  the  Universal  Spirit,  then  one  is  pene 
trated  by  the  sense  of  being  a  child  of  God  just  as  much 
as  a  nun  kneeling  in  prayer  on  the  stone  flags. 

Yet  these  are  only  impulses  for  especial  exalted  hours 

—  not  at  all  times  can  one  feel  consecrated  to  the  All. 
But  there  are  also  narrower  circles  into  which  one  can 
enter  and  escape  one's  own  egotistical  loneliness  —  any 
kind  of  a  great  community.   For  some,  it  is  found  in  art ; 
for  some  in  the  various  so-called  "Movements,"  or  politi 
cal  campaigns,  or  even  revolutions ;  either  in  active  co 
operation  or  mainly  in  intense  sympathy:  in  either  case 
one  will  be  elevated  above  the  everyday  pettinesses  and 
ennuis  of  one's  own  existence,  if  it  be  petty  and  tiresome, 
aye,  if  it  be  full  of  sadness!  Listen,  Franka,  to  the  roaring 
of  the  stream  of  Time ;  see  how  human  society  is  striving 
to  attain  new  goals,  how  it  is  engaged  in  the  battle  with 
the  powers  of  the  traditional  —  to  acquire  more  light, 
more   freedom,   more  righteousness;  in  a  word,   more 
happiness. 

A  mighty  aid  to  this  uplift  of  souls  is  found  in  the  tech 
nical  marvels  with  which  human  invention  is  every  day 
transforming  this  world.  We  live  in  a  great,  great  age! 
Especially  great,  not  so  much  in  what  is  as  in  what  is  to 
be !  To  think  of  sharing  in  it  all !  Do  not  miss  the  noble 
enjoyment  which  every  bold  ascent  is  preparing!  And 
even  if  you  yourself  cannot  attain  a  height,  then  rejoice  in 
the  lofty  flights  of  humanity.  "Soaring "  —  the  word  was 
formerly  applied  to  us  men  only  figuratively,  but  now  — 
you  know  what  happened  only  a  few  days  ago  —  for  the 
first  time  a  man  flew  over  the  Channel  .  .  .  and  these 
surprises,  these  triumphs  will  be  enlarged.  .  .  .  Look  and 

61 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

listen !  Show  yourself  —  let  us  all  show  ourselves  — 
worthy  of  having  been  born  under  the  glory  of  the 
twentieth  century.  .  .  . 

Here  the  letter  abruptly  ended.  It  was  not  diffi 
cult  to  guess  from  whom  it  came:  only  Mr.  Helmer 
could  have  been  its  author.  Had  any  definite 
address  been  attached  to  it  or  an  answer  been  de 
manded,  perhaps  Franka  would  have  sent  a  letter 
in  return.  She  had  hardly  given  a  thought  to  the 
young  secretary  since  she  no  longer  had  occasion  to 
meet  him.  After  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  however, 
which  she  read  from  beginning  to  end  several  times, 
it  was  natural  that  her  thoughts  should  turn  fre 
quently  to  Chlodwig  Helmer.  What  especially 
moved  her  was  that  something  of  the  spirit  of  her 
father  seemed  to  breathe  through  this  letter  — 
there  was  the  same  trend  of  thought  and  at  the  same 
time  almost  the  same  use  of  words  and  phrases. 
This  was  not  strange,  for  where  ideas  coincide,  there 
must  be  a  similarity  in  expression  of  them;  every 
philosophy  of  life  has  its  own  terminology.  Above 
and  beside  all  the  abstract  ideas  contained  in  the 
letter  there  was  also  the  striking  of  a  note  which 
awakened  a  melodious  echo:  —  the  five  words,  "I 
am  fond  of  you"!  —  Then  it  happened,  apparently 
in  consequence  of  his  statement  that  she  had  ap 
peared  to  him  in  a  dream,  that  she  also  two  or  three 
times  dreamed  of  him,  and  wonderful !  —  in  the 
dream  his  face  was  not  homely  —  not  at  all,  but 
rather  fascinating.  No  second  letter  followed,  the 
dreams  were  not  continued,  and  the  whole  incident 
gradually  grew  faint  and  indefinite. 


INTERMEZZO 

DURING  all  this  time  Mr.  John  A.  Toker  had  been 
elaborating  his  plan.  In  his  brain,  that  which  he 
proposed  to  do  was  already  formulated.  Certainly 
he  knew  that  everything  destined  to  come  into  exist 
ence  will,  as  soon  as  it  has  sufficient  vitality,  begin 
to  live,  develop  itself,  branch  out,  and  be  changed  in 
a  hundred  different  ways  which  its  creator  is  unable 
to  foresee;  yet  the  initial  stage  was  clearly  outlined 
before  Mr.  Toker's  inner  eye.  The  motives  and 
ends,  which  at  first  had  risen  before  him  mistily  and 
indefinitely,  he  had  long  since  supplanted  with  clear 
and  precise  formulas.  The  whole  was  drafted  into 
two  pieces  of  manuscript:  one  of  them  a  letter,  the 
other  a  circular.  A  copy  of  each  was  now  to  be  sent 
to  the  addresses  of  those  famous  contemporaries 
whose  names  he  had  inscribed  on  the  day  when  the 
project  was  conceived.  Now  a  few  names  had  dis 
appeared  from  the  list  and  a  few  others  were  added 
to  it. 

THE  LETTER 

DEAR  SIR  (or  MADAM): 

I  am  doing  myself  the  honor  of  inviting  you  most  cor 
dially  to  spend  the  first  half  of  next  June  as  my  guest :  not 
in  my  American  home,  but  in  the  center  of  Europe,  at 
Lucerne,  where  I  am  making  suitable  preparations  for 
entertaining  you  and  my  other  guests.  You  will  find  the 
names  of  other  persons  invited  indicated  in  the  inclosed 
list.  Any  one  in  your  family  or  your  household  whom  you 

63 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

would  like  to  have  as  a  companion  will  be  most  welcome. 
The  traveling  expenses  and,  if  agreeable,  a  considerable 
honorarium  will  be  supplied  by  me.  The  inclosed  circular 
will  sufficiently  show  that  this  invitation  is  not  for  a  mere 
summer  visit  for  personal  ends,  but  includes  cooperation 
in  a  civilizing  work  of  the  greatest  moment. 
Counting  upon  your  favorable  answer,  I  am, 
Yours  respectfully, 

JOHN  A.  TOKER. 

THE   PROSPECTUS 

We  are  on  the  threshold  of  the  aeronautic  age.  What 
mankind,  up  to  the  present  time,  and  especially  in  the 
last  two  or  three  decades,  has  accomplished  in  the  realm 
of  technic  is  simply  fabulous  —  is  the  triumphant  anni 
hilation  of  the  antiquated  concept  "Impossible." 

And  this  is  to  go  on  in  constantly  accelerating  progress. 
How  feeble  in  their  first  beginnings,  how  widely  separated 
from  one  another  in  time  and  space  have  been  the  great 
inventions  and  discoveries.  And  now!  Scarcely  a  day 
passes  without  some  technical  improvement  being  simul 
taneously  achieved  in  different  places.  The  rapidity  of 
progress  results  in  one  marvel  making  another  possible. 
Thus,  to  take  only  one  example,  the  dirigibility  of  the 
air-balloon  was  attained  only  because  automobilism  had 
created  the  light  motor. 

The  intellectual  and  moral  uplift  of  humanity  has  not 
kept  up  with  the  technical.  This  is  plainly  seen  in  a  single 
paragraph  the  reading  of  which  gave  me  the  impulse  to 
make  the  proposed  experiment.  The  paragraph  read: 
"The  dirigible  balloon  is  destined  to  become  the  chief 
weapon  in  wars  to  come." 

This  is  equivalent  to  saying:  "We  will  use  the  latest 
triumph  of  victorious  civilization  for  the  confirmation  of 
the  most  antiquated  barbarism."  —  This  must  not  be! 

What  the  physicists,  the  chemists,  the  engineers  have 
given  us,  one  depending  on  another,  each  building  a  little 

64 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

higher  on  the  discoveries  of  his  predecessors,  what  they 
have  done  through  comprehending  and  controlling  the 
forces  of  nature  and  making  them  our  servants,  is  on  the 
point  of  changing  one  half  —  the  material  half  —  of  our 
world  into  a  realm  of  magic. 

But  how  does  it  stand  with  the  spiritual  half,  the  imma 
terial  half?  The  unhappiness  of  men,  the  wickedness  of 
men,  the  mutual  hatreds  of  men,  —  these  ghastly  things 
give  the  answer  to  the  above  question :  the  spiritual  half 
is  still  far,  far  behind.  The  everlasting  forces  which  rule 
in  this  other  half,  and  which,  when  they  come  to  be 
known,  controlled,  and  made  useful,  would  be  able  to 
change  this  half  also  into  a  realm  of  magic :  at  the  present 
time  they  are  as  yet  concealed  and  inactive. 

The  engineers,  mechanicians,  and  technicians  of  the 
moral  forces  are  the  poets  and  prophets,  the  philosophers 
and  artists ;  they  are  the  dynamic  agents  of  thought,  the 
leaders  of  intellect,  the  pathfinders  in  the  jungles  of  social 
institutions,  the  aviators  in  the  eternal  sphere  of  ideas! 
Yet  they  are  scattered  through  the  centuries,  scattered  in 
space.  One  lives  in  New  York ;  another  in  Paris ;  the  third 
at  Yasnaya  Polyana;  their  names  go  from  the  elite  in  one 
land  to  the  61ite  in  other  lands,  but  do  not  reach  the 
masses.  How  much  more  powerful  their  work  would  be  if 
it  were  coordinated,  if  the  knowledge  of  their  doctrines, 
the  glory  of  their  names,  the  magic  of  their  art,  proceeding 
from  one  central  point,  should  radiate  in  all  directions. 
Motors  and  propellers  have  taught  us  that  power  must  be 
concentrated  and  compressed,  in  order  —  by  explosions  —  to 
drive  the  vehicle. 

THE   ROSE-WEEK   IN   LUCERNE 

This  festival-time,  which  in  my  opinion  will  surpass  in 
outward  glory  all  the  previous  "aviation  meets,"  all  the 
Wagner  festivals  in  Bayreuth,  all  the  carnivals  in  Rome 
or  Cologne,  all  the  regattas  at  Kiel  or  at  Cowes,  all  the 
races  at  Baden-Baden,  will  last  with  its  public  functions 

65 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

from  the  eighth  until  the  fifteenth  of  June.  The  period 
from  the  first  till  the  eighth  belongs  to  my  guests  for  unin 
terrupted  social  intercourse.  I  believe  that  my  great  con 
temporaries  will  thus  find  unique  opportunity  for  high 
social  enjoyment,  for  the  most  fruitful1  inspiration.  How 
rarely  is  it  vouchsafed  for  those  who  stand  on  the  emi 
nences  of  Humanity  to  consort  with  their  fellows ! 

The  second  week  will  belong  to  the  public,  which  will 
have  the  unique  enjoyment  of  seeing  and  hearing  the 
laurel-crowned  of  all  countries  assembled  in  the  same 
place  and  of  absorbing  the  lofty  thoughts  which  will  flow 
from  their  words. 

The  attendance  at  the  lectures  and  art  performances 
will  in  all  probability  be  immense. 

But  what  my  guests  will  have  to  say  is  not  to  be 
limited  to  those  present.  The  echo  of  it  will  ring  through 
the  whole  world.  The  great  journals  will  certainly  send 
their  representatives  who  will  telegraph  long  extracts 
from  the  various  addresses.  And  involuntarily  the  Press 
will  in  this  way  fulfill  what  ought  to  be  its  most  important 
function :  to  further  the  great  universal  interests  of  man 
kind  instead  of  stirring  up  international  strife  and  culti 
vating  local  gossip.  But  we  will  not  depend  on  them: 
we  ourselves  will  institute  a  large  and  complete  staff  of 
secretaries  and  translators;  we  will  employ  a  printing- 
office  and  have  the  principal  addresses  set  forth  in 
extenso,  and  send  them  out  as  pamphlets  to  all  parts  of  the 
world.  And  still  more:  gramophones  will  catch  the  very 
intonations  of  the  speakers,  kinematographs  will  repro 
duce  the  gestures  of  the  orators,  and  the  records  and  films 
will  be  sent  out  to  thousands  of  schools  and  settlements 
all  over  the  world.  In  all  regions  and  in  all  classes  shall  be 
scattered  the  messages  of  the  Rose-Week! 

What  the  men  and  women  whom  I  have  in  mind  will 
say,  is  not  for  any  particular  race  or  class :  its  sole  aim  and 
object  will  be,  "to  elevate  all  humanity." 

And  why  roses? 

That  I  have  chosen  out  of  the  twelve  months  of  the 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

year  the  month  of  roses,  that  I  am  going  to  conduct  the 
whole  arrangement  under  the  emblem  of  roses  —  all  the 
programmes,  all  the  invitations,  and  so  forth,  will  be 
adorned  with  these  flowers;  on  the  buildings  and  festal 
arches  roses  will  be  garlanded  as  escutcheons  —  a  sar- 
danapalian  abundance  of  living,  blooming  roses  will  be 
entwined  around  all  the  pillars,  will  adorn  the  tables  and 
walls;  bushes  blooming  with  roses  and  rose-beds  will  be 
planted  in  the  grounds  —  intoxicating  perfume  of  roses 
will  fill  all  the  air  —  a  rose-bacchanal :  all  this  is  not,  per 
haps,  a  whimsical  fancy,  an  ostentatious  piece  of  extrava 
gance  such  as  the  multimillionaires  of  Fifth  Avenue  are 
accustomed  to  vulgarize  their  festivities  with ;  —  a  deeper 
symbolism  is  involved  in  it:  the  whole  undertaking  is  to 
stand  under  the  protection  and  the  shelter  of  Beauty! 


CHAPTER  V 
COUNT  SIELEN'S  WILL 

THE  gloomy  autumnal  sense  of  depression,  which 
had  settled  down  on  Franka's  mind  and  the  whole  of 
Sielenburg,  grew  ever  deeper.  Death  was  making 
his  entrance  into  the  castle.  For  more  than  a  week 
the  sick  count's  passing  away  had  been  expected 
from  hour  to  hour.  The  physicians  had  expressed 
their  opinion  that  it  was  inevitable  and  immediately 
at  hand.  At  Countess  Adele's  suggestion  the  priest 
had  already  been  summoned  in  order  to  administer 
extreme  unction  to  the  man  who  lay  unconscious  in 
his  bed;  the  warder  of  the  tower  was  ready  at  a 
moment's  notice  to  raise  the  black  standard,  and  the 
sexton  of  the  adjacent  church  was  only  waiting  for 
the  signal  to  ring  the  passing-bell. 

Franka  ventured  several  times  to  enter  the  sick 
room  which  was  now  a  death-chamber,  and  the 
moans  which  came  from  the  bed,  and  mingled  with 
the  storm  howling  without  in  an  unspeakably  melan 
choly  dirge,  rang  incessantly  in  her  ears,  even  after 
she  had  left  the  room  and  repaired  to  her  own,  which 
was  situated  in  the  other  wing  of  the  castle,  where 
the  wind  could  not  be  heard. 

Here  she  was  now  sitting  in  the  dark,  —  it  was 
about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  —  and  was 
thinking  of  her  own  father's  death,  which  so  short 
a  time  before  had  left  her  an  orphan.  Now,  by  the 

68 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

loss  of  her  grandfather,  she  would  be  once  more  quite 
friendless  in  that  house.  Her  tears  flowed  for  the 
poor  departed  father,  for  the  poor  departing  count, 
and  likewise  for  the  poor  deserted  maiden  —  for 
herself. 

Suddenly  she  pricked  up  her  ears.  In  the  prevail 
ing  silence  she  heard  a  distant  commotion :  the  open 
ing  and  shutting  of  doors,  hurrying  footsteps,  voices. 
.  .  .  With  a  throbbing  heart  she  sprang  up  and 
turned  on  the  light.  At  the  same  instant  her  maid 
came  hurrying  into  the  room. 

"What  has  happened?  .  .  .  My  grandfather?  . . ." 
"Yes,  Miss  Franka;  the  count  has  passed  away!" 

On  the  morning  after  the  funeral,  which  was  con 
ducted  with  imposing  state,  the  Countess  Adele  sent 
for  Franka. 

"  I  have  summoned  you,  my  dear  child,  to  have  a 
few  serious  words  with  you.  Sit  down." 

"What  can  this  mean?"  queried  Franka  in  some 
perturbation. 

"You  have  shown  deep  and,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
genuine  sorrow  at  the  death  of  my  poor  brother." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  loved  him  so!" 

"And  you  were  right,  for  he  was  very  kind  —  per 
haps  a  little  too  kind  to  you.  He  has  not  left  you 
unprovided  for.  His  will  has  not  been  opened  as  yet, 
but  I  know  about  it,  for  he  told  me  before  you  came 
that  he  intended  to  leave  you  a  legacy  of  forty  or 
fifty  thousand  crowns.  That  is  a  very  neat  little 
fortune.  It  is  enough  to  cover  the  bond  and  you 
can  marry  an  officer.  Besides,  that  is  your  natural 

69 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

vocation  —  to  marry.  You  could  not  be  a  canoness 
because  you  have  bourgeois  blood;  and  since  you 
have  bourgeois  blood,  you  can  have  no  claim  to  mar 
riage  in  our  class.  Of  course,  you  will  not  think  of 
remaining  at  the  Sielenburg.  Here  you  would  have 
no  opportunity  .  .  .  and  you  do  not  get  along  very 
well  with  us.  I  have  never  referred  again  to  that 
fatal  matter  of  the  books,  but  the  sting  remains.  .  .  . 
At  all  events,  I  would  not  think  of  casting  you  off. 
After  all,  you  are  my  beloved  brother's  granddaugh 
ter  —  he  recognized  you  as  such  ...  so  you  are  not 
to  sink  back  into  the  sphere  in  which  you  were 
brought  up.  Therefore,  Cousin  Albertine  and  I  have 
decided  that  she  —  Cousin  Albertine  —  should  take 
charge  of  you.  She  lives  in  Teschen  —  a  little  city  in 
Silesia.  A  very  large  garrison  is  quartered  there,  and 
no  doubt,  as  soon  as  it  is  known  that  you  possess  the 
necessary  amount,  you  will  have  suitors  among  the 
officers,  for  you  are  a  pretty  girl.  One  should  not 
depend  too  much  on  mere  physical  beauty;  still  it 
is  a  recommendation  —  especially  in  matrimonial 
affairs.  .  .  .  Albertine  remained  unmarried  simply 
because  she  was  excessively  homely  .  .  .  that  is  still 
very  evident.  You  will  be  very  comfortable  at  her 
house  —  she  keeps  up  a  very  nice  establishment  — 
all  the  officers'  wives  attend  her  'At  Homes,'  and 
young  men  will  not  stay  away  as  soon  as  it  is  known 
that  the  pretty  niece  is  not  quite  without  means. 
But  you  must  take  great  care  not  to  give  utterance 
to  such  anti-military  views  as  are  preached  in  an 
other  terrible  book  which  we  found  in  your  room  — 
'  Das  Rote  Lachen '  —  what  a  title !  However,  Aunt 

70 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Albertine  will  instruct  you  in  the  proper  rules  of 
behavior.  As  you  know,  she  is  very  plain-spoken,  for 
she  is  extraordinarily  frank  —  but  that  should  never 
offend  you!  She  means  it  for  your  best  good." 

Franka  let  the  old  lady  talk  on,  and  did  not  make 
a  sign.  Formerly  she  would  have  rebelled  against 
much  that  her  aunt  said,  especially  against  the  ex 
pressions,  "sink  back  into  the  sphere  in  which  she 
had  been  brought  up  " ;  but  now,  on  the  day  after  the 
count's  burial  she  would  have  no  quarrel  with  his  sis 
ter.  She  keenly  felt  that  she  could  not  exist  in  the 
"sphere"  to  which  they  were  trying  to  elevate  her; 
she  had  decided  to  depart  from  the  Sielenburg  and  to 
refuse  Aunt  Albertine's  offer.  If  it  was  true  that  her 
good  grandfather  had  so  generously  remembered  her, 
—  the  amount  mentioned  seemed  to  her  a  very  con 
siderable  sum,  —  she  was  protected  against  poverty, 
and  was  her  own  mistress.  And  even  if  there  was 
no  legacy  for  her,  she  would  prefer  to  go  out  into 
the  world  and  obtain  some  situation.  Anything  but 
this  state  of  dependence!  Anything  but  this  moral 
dungeon ! 

"Well,  what  do  you  say  to  this?"  said  the  aunt  in 
conclusion,  after  she  had  gone  on  in  the  same  tone 
for  some  time. 

"Excuse 'me,  at  present  I  have  nothing  to  say.  I 
am  so  affected  by  the  sad  occurrences  of  the  last 
few  days  —  I  really  cannot  answer." 

"Very  good;  go  back  to  your  room  again.  I  cer 
tainly  appreciate  that  you  are  quite  unstrung,  first 
from  grief  at  your  grandfather's  death  and  also  by 
joy  at  the  brilliant  prospects  which  I  have  disclosed 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  you.  .  .  .  So,  then,  we  will  take  up  the  subject 
another  time.  There  is  no  hurry  —  Aunt  Albertine 
will  not  return  to  Teschen  for  six  weeks ;  till  then  you 
can  remain  here." 

Franka  stood  up.   "May  I  go?" 

"Yes,  but  at  three  o'clock  this  afternoon  come  to 
the  green  salon.  At  that  time  we  are  to  meet  there 
and  Dr.  Fixstern,  who  has  Eduard's  will,  is  to  read 
it.  As  you  are  probably  mentioned  in  it,  you  should 
attend  the  meeting." 

At  the  specified  hour  all  the  members  of  the  family 
present  at  the  castle  assembled  in  the  "green  salon." 
Besides  the  Countess  Adele,  Miss  Albertine,  and 
Cousin  Coriolan,  there  were  a  few  distant  relatives 
who  had  come  to  the  Sielenburg  for  the  funeral. 
Franka  entered  last  and  took  her  place  in  a  chair  by 
the  wall  near  the  doorway.  The  others  sat  in  a  semi 
circle  in  front  of  the  table  where  Dr.  Fixstern  was 
engaged  in  taking  documents  out  of  a  portfolio. 

"Are  all  the  persons  concerned  present?  "  he  asked 
after  he  had  taken  his  seat  in  the  armchair. 

"Yes,  all  are  here,"  answered  the  Countess  Adele. 
"You  may  proceed,  Doctor." 

Great  excitement  was  visible  in  the  features  of 
those  in  the  semicircle.  They  were  all  more  or  less 
pale  and  breathless.  The  doctor  straightened  his 
spectacles  and  began :  — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  here  the  testament 
of  my  honored  patron  and  client,  Count  Eduard  von 
Sielen,  and  I  will  now  read  it  before  the  assembled 
family.  For  more  than  twenty  years,  I  have  had  the 

72 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

honor  of  serving  as  the  attorney  and  agent  of  the 
late  count.  It  is,  therefore,  only  natural  that  he 
should  have  put  into  my  hands  the  will  which  I  and 
my  solicitor  have  signed  as  witnesses,  and  that  he 
should  have  designated  me  as  his  executor.  I  am 
fully  acquainted  with  the  condition  of  his  affairs  and 
I  have  an  inventory  of  all  the  real  estate  and  per 
sonal  property  which  he  has  left.  Here  it  is:  if  you 
will  grant  me  permission,  I  will  first  put  this  fully 
before  you. 

"The  count's  property  was  larger  than  might  have 
been  supposed  from  his  comparatively  modest  scale 
of  living.  It  consists:  (i)  Of  the  domain  of  Sielen- 
burg  in  Moravia,  of  Grossmarkendorf  in  Lower 
Austria,  and  of  Hochberg  in  Carinthia.  These  pos 
sessions  amount  altogether  to  8700  acres  of  land  and 
are  unencumbered;  (2)  the  Sielen  palace  on  the 
Wieden  in  Vienna;  (3)  bank-deposits  in  English  and 
national  banks  amounting  nominally  to  two  mil 
lion  five  hundred  thousand  crowns.  I  have  also  a 
complete  list  of  the  jewels,  silver  plate,  paintings, 
and  furniture  to  be  found  in  the  various  castles,  in 
the  Vienna  palace,  and  also  in  storage.  And  now  I 
will  proceed  to  the  reading  of  the  will." 

The  excitement  in  the  semicircle  had  grown  still 
more  intense,  and  while  the  lawyer  was  breaking  the 
seal  of  the  envelope  and  unfolding  a  large  sheet 
of  parchment,  one  might  have  heard  the  beating 
hearts  of  those  in  the  assembly. 

Dr.  Fixstern  cleared  his  throat  a  second  time  and 
read  in  a  loud  voice :  — 

"This  is  my  last  will. 

73 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"  I  commend  my  soul  to  God. 

"Since  my  property  is  not  entailed,  I  am  free  to 
dispose  of  it  in  accordance  with  my  best  judgment. 

"I  make  my  disposition  as  follows:  I  nominate 
as  my  universal  legatee  my  granddaughter,  Franka 
Garlett." 

At  this  all  uttered  an  "  Ah! "  which  was  more  like  a 
shriek  than  an  exclamation.  Cries  of  astonishment, 
of  disillusionment,  of  indignation,  of  dismay.  Only 
the  cry  of  joy  was  lacking,  for  Franka  had  sprung  to 
her  feet,  mute  with  terror,  and  then  instantly  sank 
back  again.  She  would  have  preferred  to  run  away 
—  to  her  father,  that  she  might  bring  to  him  this 
astounding  piece  of  news !  —  to  her  grandfather  that 
she  might  thank  him.  .  .  .  But  they  were  both  dead. 
Here  among  the  living  there  was  no  one  who  would 
look  on  her  with  anything  but  envy.  Then  before 
her  mind  arose  the  thought  of  her  anonymous  corre 
spondent  whose  tender  word  had  flown  to  her:  "I 
am  fond  of  you  "...  If  only  he  were  by  her  side  . . .  ! 

A  moment  passed  before  the  general  stupefaction 
had  subsided,  and  Dr.  Fixstern  could  proceed.  Now 
followed  various  bequests.  All  the  relatives,  even 
the  most  distant,  were  remembered  with  larger  or 
smaller  legacies;  for  the  functionaries  and  servants 
were  bequests  either  in  money  or  in  pensions;  vari 
ous  charitable  institutions  were  also  remembered. 
Mr.  Chlodwig  Helmer,  "whose  character  I  have 
learned  to  value  very  highly,"  received  a  valuable 
ring;  Dr.  Fixstern  as  the  executor  received  a  hand 
some  legacy.  After  the  bequests  were  paid,  the 
property  descending  to  the  residuary  legatee  would 

74 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

be  diminished  by  not  far  from  a  million  crowns. 
After  he  had  finished  reading  the  document,  Dr. 
Fixstern  arose  and  went  to  Franka,  who  was  still 
sitting  near  the  entrance  to  the  salon,  and  made  a 
low  bow:  — 

"Miss  Garlett,  receive  my  congratulations:  you 
are  the  mistress  of  Sielenburg." 

The  others  came  also  and  congratulated  her  with 
bitter-sweet  looks.  Franka  was  still,  as  it  were, 
stunned. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  "as  if  I  ought  to  ask 
the  forgiveness  of  you  all";  and  the  tension  of  her 
nerves  gave  way  in  a  spasmodic  fit  of  weeping. 

Aunt  Albertine  began  to  busy  herself  tenderly 
with  her:  — 

"  Come,  come ;  I  will  conduct  you  to  your  room  . . . 
you  must  recover  from  the  shock  ..." 

The  way  from  the  green  salon  to  Franka's  cham 
ber  was  through  a  suite  of  salons  down  the  long 
corridors,  up  the  monumental  staircase;  and  this 
way,  which  she  had  so  often  taken,  now  seemed  to 
her  wholly  new  —  it  was  all  her  own  property,  her 
realm.  .  .  .  Under  Miss  Albertine's  affectionate  guid 
ance  she  reached  her  room,  but  there  she  asked  to  be 
left  alone  for  a  while  —  she  desired  to  rest,  she  felt  so 
unstrung.  .  .  . 

"  Yes,  my  darling,  now  get  a  good  rest.  I  will  go." 
Franka  locked  the  door  as  soon  as  Miss  Albertine 
had  left  the  room.  No  one  must  disturb  her  —  she 
wanted  to  be  alone  with  her  great  destiny.  She  drew 
deep  audible  sighs  just  as  one  does  after  climbing  a 
mountain-peak.  Indeed,  it  was  a  peak  to  which  she 

75 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

had  been  elevated  —  a  dizzy  peak.  What  possibili 
ties  lay  open  before  her  —  what  duties  must  she  ful 
fill!  Like  a  flash  of  lightning  the  thought  went 
through  her  mind:  " I  must  accomplish  something!" 

What? 

That  she  knew  not.  This  thought  was  only  a 
germ:  but  she  felt  that  something  would  come  to 
fruition.  A  voice  seemed  to  say  to  her:  "Franka, 
something  great,  something  marvelous  has  happened 
to  you";  and  in  the  depths  of  her  soul  came  her 
answer:  "  I  will  be  worthy  of  this  marvelous  thing." 

"Be  worthy?"  Where  had  she  seen  or  heard  that 
word  lately?  Oh,  yes,  now  she  remembered :  she  took 
from  her  writing-table  Helmer's  letter  —  there  it 
was.  "Show  yourself  —  let  us  all  show  ourselves  — 
worthy  of  having  been  born  under  the  glory  of  the 
twentieth  century.  .  .  ." 

Some  one  knocked  at  the  door.  Franka  put  the 
letter  back  into  the  drawer  and  went  to  open  the 
door. 

The  Countess  Adele  entered.  "So  you  wanted  to 
rest  after  your  being  so  startled?  Yes,  it  is  startling, 
to  be  sure.  .  .  .  Who  could  ever  have  imagined !  —  I 
must  have  a  little  talk  with  you  about  it ....  We 
must  have  a  clear  understanding  as  to  what  is  to  be 
done  now." 

She  sat  down,  and  Franka,  resigning  herself,  took 
a  seat.  What  would  Aunt  Adele  have  to  say  now? 
Probably  a  whole  series  of  suggestions  and  coun 
sels.  .  .  .  But  in  her  heart  the  purpose  stirred:  "I 
will  do  what  I  please." 

"Well,  aunt,"  she  said  aloud,  "let  us  talk.   It  is 

76 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

truly  an  unexpected,  overpowering  stroke  of  Fate. 
I  am  still  perfectly  dazed  by  it." 

"I  can  believe  you.  Now  everything  is  changed. 
Nothing  more  needs  to  be  said  about  the  plan  of 
your  going  to  Teschen  which  we  discussed  this  morn 
ing.  Albertine,  of  course,  would  be  only  too  glad  to 
have  you  come  to  her  —  she  told  us  so  before  —  but 
there  would  be  no  sense  in  it ;  —  you  will  remain  with 
me  at  the  Sielenburg  —  until  you  are  married." 

"And  whom  am  I  going  to  marry?" 

"That  will  take  care  of  itself.  You  will  not  lack 
suitors,  now  that  you  are  a  brilliant  match.  You 
would  bring  your  husband  several  landed  estates, 
a  palace,  and  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  Your 
choice  must  fall  on  a  solid,  sensible  man  who  under 
stands  the  careful  management  of  property.  I  could 
suggest  one  to  you,  but  it  is  premature  to  talk  about 
it  as  yet.  But  in  the  mean  time  we  shall  keep  up  the 
establishment,  have  some  great  hunting-parties,  and 
the  right  person  will  come  at  the  right  moment.  Of 
course,  for  the  present  we  shall  live  secluded  —  you 
see  we  shall  be  in  mourning  for  a  year,  and  it  would 
not  do  at  all  to  go  into  society  during  these  twelve 
months.  But  you  can  utilize  the  time  by  trying  to 
cultivate  good  manners.  You  are  so  lacking  in  what 
is  required  for  the  rank  which  you  will  take  in  our 
circle  ...  I  will  invite  two  young  nieces  to  come 
here  as  companions  for  you,  and  you  can  improve 
your  ways  by  observing  how  they  behave,  and  then 
you  can  obtain  from  them  good  sound  ideas  —  the 
dear  girls  have  been  educated  in  the  Sacr£  Cceur 
Convent  and  are  very  religious  and  '  comme  il  faut ' 

77 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

in  their  opinions.  Yet  at  the  same  time  they  are 
merry  as  becomes  their  age  and  yours.  .  .  .  And  if 
you  wish  to  keep  these  rooms  as  yours,  it  will  be  all 
right.  Or,  if  you  like,  I  can  have  prepared  for  you 
the  apartments  that  belonged  to  your  mother  and 
which  have  been  unoccupied  since  her  flight.  You 
need  have  no  care  concerning  the  housekeeping  —  in 
the  first  place,  you  do  not  understand  anything  about 
it,  and,  besides,  I  have  been  in  charge  of  it  for  years. 
And  naturally  you  know  nothing  about  managing 
the  estate.  .  .  .  But  we  have  an  excellent  intendant 
and  Cousin  Coriolan  will  gladly  have  an  eye  to  the 
direction  of  affairs  and  take  charge  of  the  accounts. 
I  will  talk  with  Dr.  Fixstern  about  the  management 
of  your  property  —  of  course,  you  know  nothing 
about  that  either,  and  so  you  need  not  have  any 
bother  about  all  that.  For  your  own  little  expendi 
tures  —  toilet,  charities,  and  so  forth  —  I  will  allow 
you  suitable  pocket-money.  Are  you  listening  to 
me?  You  look  so  distraite.11 

"I?  Oh,  yes,  I  have  heard  you." 

"Well,  and  what  have  you  to  say?" 

"  I  have  nothing  at  all  to  say  to-day.  As  you  just 
remarked,  it  is  too  soon.  I  must  first  collect  my 
thoughts." 

"Well,  you  need  not  think  and  worry.  Experi 
enced  people  are  here  to  relieve  you.  So  we  will  talk 
no  more  about  these  things  now  —  '  To-morrow  is 
another  day.'  Adieu  for  now,  and  do  not  be  too  late 
in  coming  down  to  dinner." 

"I  should  like  to  be  excused  for  to-night,  aunt.  I 
am  going  to  bed  very  shortly." 

78 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"That  is  a  good  idea;  then  I  will  have  your  dinner 
sent  up  to  you.  Have  a  good  night's  sleep  and  wake 
up  to-morrow  fresh  and  rested.  You  look  so  scared 
—  not  at  all  like  the  lucky  creature  that  you  are ;  and 
do  not  forget  to  fall  on  your  knees  and  thank  the 
good  God  for  pouring  out  such  a  blessing  on  you." 

"Horrible!"  exclaimed  Franka  aloud,  as  soon  as 
she  was  alone.  And  then  she  began  to  laugh.  The 
humor  of  the  thing  had  not  escaped  her.  That  very 
morning  the  countess  had  said  to  her  that,  of  course, 
her  further  stay  at  the  Sielenburg  was  not  to  be 
thought  of,  and  now  the  old  lady  was  willing  to  let 
her  stay  "with  her,"  and  would  undertake  the  man 
agement  of  her  whole  future  —  a  future  which  lay 
before  her  so  great,  so  enigmatical,  so  full  of  power 
and  magnificence  —  a  future  opening  out  before 
such  duties  and  possibilities.  Again  her  mind  turned 
to  the  as  yet  unformulated  germ  of  plans  half-con 
ceived  —  such  as  Aunt  Adele,  in  her  narrow  horizon, 
had  never  even  dreamed.  No,  no,  this  proposed 
tyranny  must  be  shaken  off  as  speedily  and  as  de 
cisively  as  possible.  Franka  felt  that  she  had  the 
courage  and  the  power  to  do  so,  although  she  was 
alone. 

Alone  in  this  milieu,  yes;  but  she  felt  as  if  she  had 
comradeship  and  support  in  the  world  outside,  in  the 
hovering  spirit  of  her  father,  in  the  souls  of  those 
new  men  who  were  striving  for  lofty  aims,  in  —  how 
had  Chlodwig  Helmer  expressed  it?  —  in  community 
with  all  that  is  holy  in  the  eternal  and  the  infinite. . . . 
All  she  needed  was  freedom,  and  this  was  now 
brought  to  her  by  her  wealth;  also  by  the  fact  that 

79 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

no  sort  of  tradition  or  duty  bound  her  to  the  environ 
ment  in  which  it  was  planned  to  asphyxiate  and 
strangle  her,  if  she  could  not  tear  herself  away  from 
it.  But  she  could  and  she  would.  .  .  .  She  was  mis 
tress  of  the  Sielenburg,  and  what  was  most  precious 
to  her  —  she  was  mistress  of  herself. 

The  following  morning  she  sent  for  Dr.  Fixstern  to 
come  to  her.  She  asked  him  to  explain  to  her  once 
more  her  rights  and  her  title  in  the  property.  Then 
she  told  him  of  the  Countess  Schollendorf's  pro 
posals  and  of  her  own  firm  resolve  not  to  accept 
them.  She  was  greatly  relieved  to  find  that  Dr. 
Fixstern  was  not  at  all  on  the  side  of  the  countess,  as 
she  had  feared,  but  wholly  on  hers.  He  was  right 
eously  indignant  at  the  old  lady's  presumption ;  and 
when  Franka  told  him  of  her  proposal  to  dole  out  to 
the  unrestricted  possessor  of  millions  a  limited  sum 
of  pocket-money  he  laughed  heartily. 

The  conference  lasted  some  time.  Franka  had 
many  questions  to  ask  and  Dr.  Fixstern  had  also 
many  things  to  tell  her,  many  explanations,  much 
good  advice  to  give  her.  Only  after  the  estate  had 
been  fully  settled  would  the  exact  amount  of  her  for 
tune  be  known,  but  in  the  mean  time  she  would  be 
able  to  get  some  idea  of  what  she  would  have  by 
glancing  over  the  inventory  that  he  had  with  him ; 
and  he  read  to  her  the  figures  representing  the  income 
and  the  payments  which  would  have  to  be  deducted 
from  it.  Franka  listened  with  increasing  delight  as 
she  began  to  comprehend  what  enormous  wealth  had 
fallen  into  her  lap.  The  joyous  sensation  of  the  dis 
coverer  of  a  treasure  filled  her  heart.  For  the  very 

80 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

reason  that  she  had  gone  through  the  school  of 
poverty  and  deprivation,  she  was  now  able  to  appre 
ciate  the  value  of  riches,  and  she  had  already  got 
an  inkling  of  the  independence,  the  esteem,  and  the 
enjoyment  which  her  property  was  to  vouchsafe  her. 

At  the  same  time,  as  a  sort  of  absolution  from 
the  sin  of  pride  in  possession,  she  cherished  the  con 
sciousness  that  she  should  make  use  of  the  power 
that  had  come  to  her  for  something  noble  and  grand 
and  daring. 

Franka  expressed  her  desire  to  go  that  very  win 
ter  to  Vienna  and  take  up  her  residence  in  her  palace. 
Dr.  Fixstern  entirely  acquiesced,  and  declared  that 
he  and  his  wife  would  do  everything  to  aid  her;  he 
assured  her  that  she  might  depend  upon  him  in 
every  way ;  the  long  devotion  which  he  had  showed 
to  the  late  count  he  was  ready  now  to  show  the 
granddaughter. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   SECOND  ANONYMOUS  MESSAGE 

CHLODWIG  HELMER  was  writing  the  last  act  of  his 
drama.  He  was  well  satisfied  with  his  work.  But  he 
knew  how  wide  and  perhaps  impossible  was  the  gulf 
between  the  finishing  of  a  theatrical  piece  and  its 
production.  Yet  even  as  it  was,  he  felt  his  heart 
swell  with  that  comfortable  sensation  which  every 
creative  artist  experiences  when  he  succeeds  in 
clothing  in  definite  form  that  which  has  hovered  in 
his  mind. 

Ever  since  Helmer  had  left  the  Sielenburg,  he  had 
occupied  himself  exclusively  with  literary  work.  His 
dismissal  had  come  to  him  very  unexpectedly.  One 
morning  Count  Sielen  had  received  him  with  these 
words:  — 

"My  dear  Helmer,  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you.  .  .  .  During  the  two  years  since  you  have  been 
with  me,  I  have  become  very  fond  of  you.  You  are  a 
fine,  sensible  fellow,  you  have  irreproachable  man 
ners  —  I  have  no  fault,  absolutely  no  fault  to  find 
with  you  and  yet  —  do  not  be  surprised  —  I  am 
giving  you  your  cong6.  .  .  .  Do  not  ask  my  reasons, 
but  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  you  are  not  to 
blame  for  my  taking  this  step.  As  a  proof  that  I  feel 
for  you  something  more  than  good  will,  I  am  going 
to  give  you  recommendations  as  hearty  as  you  could 
desire.  You  will  secure  a  place  ten  times  better  than 

82 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

this ;  and  in  order  that  you  may  have  opportunity  to 
look  about  and  to  choose  I  am  handing  you  a  check 
for  a  sum  sufficient  for  you  to  live  two  years  free 
from  anxiety.  .  .  .  No,  no !  do  not  protest :  you  must 
accept  it  out  of  love  for  me  ...  in  order  to  console 
me.  It  is  painful  enough  for  me  to  lose  you.  ...  In 
fact,  I  need  the  services  of  a  physician  rather  than  of 
a  secretary  .  .  .  but  I  shall  miss  you  keenly,  and  I  do 
not  want  to  have  the  additional  sorrow  of  knowing 
that  you  are  worried ;  it  is  not  always  easy  to  find  a 
place  and  you  must  not  take  the  first  that  offers  — 
in  short,  you  dare  not  refuse  to  do  this  favor  for  your 
old  sick  friend." 

Helmer  also  had  not  found  it  easy  to  leave  the 
count.  A  few  days  after  this  peculiar  notice  and  after 
a  very  affectionate  leave-taking  from  the  old  man,  he 
departed  from  the  castle  of  Sielenburg.  He  had  no 
opportunity  to  say  good-bye  to  Franka:  on  the  day 
of  his  departure  she  had  gone  for  a  visit  in  the  neigh 
borhood  with  the  Countess  Adele.  Better  so  —  the 
farewell  would  have  been  hard  for  him.  And  perhaps 
it  was  better,  on  the  whole,  that  he  was  going  away, 
for  he  would  otherwise  have  been  certain  to  fall 
desperately  in  love  with  the  beautiful  girl.  Already 
he  felt  that  he  had  partly  lost  his  heart  to  her  —  so 
it  was  best  as  it  was.  He  settled  down  in  one  of  the 
suburbs  of  Vienna  where  he  proposed  to  devote  him 
self  to  literary  work  for  a  time.  Perhaps,  if  he  should 
succeed,  he  might  exclusively  follow  this  career. 

He  took  up  his  abode  in  a  villa  situated  amid  green 
vegetation.  He  had  easy  access  to  his  beloved  for 
est  ;  if  he  desired  to  go  to  the  city  it  was  a  short  and 

83 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

speedy  trip  by  the  cars.  There  he  frequently  visited 
his  boyhood  friend,  Baron  Franz  Bruning — the  one 
to  whom  he  wrote  the  long  letter  from  the  Sielenburg 
and  who  now  had  a  Government  position.  Not  that 
Helmer  found  any  especial  enjoyment  in  this  inter 
course.  The  character  and  nature  of  his  early  play 
mate  had  developed  in  a  direction  which  was  simply 
uncongenial  to  him.  But  old  associations  always 
form  a  bond  not  easily  broken.  He  also  associated 
with  a  few  young  people  in  literary  and  artistic 
circles.  Nevertheless,  he  rarely,  at  most  only  twice  a 
week,  went  to  town;  for  his  work  kept  him  fast  in  his 
voluntary  isolation. 

"Curtain!"  Now  the  last  scene  of  the  drama  was 
completed  and  he  wrote  the  word  "Curtain"  with  a 
joyful  sigh  of  relief.  He  was  startled  from  the  agree 
able  relaxation  of  the  moment  by  a  knock  at  the 
door.  He  shouted,  "Come  in!"  and  there  entered  a 
very  elegantly  dressed  man  of  medium  stature  with 
a  highly  colored,  full-moon  face  adorned  with  a  tiny 
black  mustache. 

"Ah,  is  it  you,  Franz?" 

"Yes,  I  had  to  hunt  you  down  in  your  den  —  if 
for  nothing  else,  to  talk  with  you  about  the  astonish 
ing  news." 

"What  news?" 

" Give  me  a  cigar  first.  Thanks!  I  mean  the  news 
from  Sielenburg." 

"I  know  nothing  about  it." 

"Do  not  you  read  your  paper,  man  alive?" 

"  I  confess  I  have  been  so  busy  the  last  few  days 

84 


WHEN  .THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

with  my  work  that  I  have  scarcely  glanced  at  the 
papers." 

"And  you  did  not  know  that  the  old  count  is 
dead?" 

"  Dead ! "  exclaimed  Chlodwig,  in  a  tone  of  genuine 
concern.  "How?  When?" 

"A  few  days  ago  —  and  his  granddaughter,  Miss 
Franka,  whom  you  admired  so  much,  is  left  uni 
versal  legatee.  .  .  .  She  seems  to  have  succeeded  in 
making  good.  .  .  .  Have  not  you  a  chance  there? 
She  would  be  a  match!" 

Chlodwig  was  dumb  with  astonishment.  He  was, 
indeed,  glad  that  such  a  piece  of  extraordinary  good 
fortune  had  befallen  the  charming  young  lady ;  but 
one  thing  he  contemplated  with  horror  —  the  crowd 
of  fortune-hunters  that  would  surround  her. 

"If  you  had  been  a  foxy  fellow,"  pursued  the 
other,  "you  would  have  turned  the  girl's  head  — 
but,  of  course,  you  could  not  have  foreseen  what  was 
to  happen  to  her." 

Without  paying  any  attention  to  these  observa 
tions,  which  seemed  to  him  forced  in  their  humor, 
Chlodwig  said :  — 

"This  news  moves  me  deeply  .  .  .  the  poor  count 
.  .  .  and  the  granddaughter  ...  a  remarkable  ro 
mance!  .  .  .  Where  did  you  read  all  this?" 

"  In  the  '  Presse' ;  three  days  ago  the  report  of  the 
count's  death,  and  this  morning,  the  will." 

Chlodwig  glanced  through  the  papers  lying  on  his 
table  and  found  the  paragraphs. 

"Are  you  not  going  to  condole  with  the  orphan  so 
cruelly  robbed  of  her  grandpapa?" 

85 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Chlodwig  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Bruning's  tone 
was  particularly  disagreeable  to  him  to-day. 

Franz  stood  up.  "But  I  must  look  around  a  little 
.  .  .  you  are  charmingly  situated.  .  .  .  What  a  view 
out  over  the  open  ..." 

From  the  window  he  went  to  the  bookcases. 

"Look!  look!  —  what  a  swarm  of  poets:  Stefan 
George,  Hofmannsthal,  Dehmel,  Liliencron,  Swin 
burne,  Rostand.  .  .  .  Verses,  verses,  verses.  .  .  .  Well, 
as  you  yourself  are  a  poet,  of  course  you  must 
wade  through  them  all.  ...  I  cannot  read  more  than 
two  lines  of  rhyme  at  one  fell  swoop  .  .  .  everything 
exaggerated  goes  against  my  very  soul  ...  a  hun 
dred,  or  say  fifty,  years  ago,  in  the  romantic  epoch, 
such  things  were  at  least  permissible ;  in  these  days 
all  this  seems  false  to  our  prosaic  world,  which  is  avid 
of  money  and  power,  and  it  finds  no  echo.  To  win 
the  battle,  one  must  force  one's  way  through  with 
one's  elbows.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  one  may 
indulge  in  a  little  wooing  and  cooing,  but  no  ro 
mances.  .  .  .  And  what  have  you  there!  Technical 
journals  about  airships  and  the  technic  of  aviation? 
Does  that  interest  you?  I  can  understand  that.  The 
thing  can  be  taken  in  earnest:  a  new  sport,  a  new 
weapon,  a  new  industry  .  .  ." 

"Nothing  else?" 

"Well,  yes;  also  new  regulations  for  insurance 
against  aviation  accidents." 

He  continued  to  rummage  through  the  book 
shelves —  "Oh,  yes,  you  have  the  novels  of  aerial 
warfare:  Sand,  Martin,  Wells  .  .  .  those  are  mere 
phantasmagorias.  One  must  stick  to  the  truth.  One 

86 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

must  learn  to  know  and  to  despise  men  and  things 
as  they  are  —  then  can  one  best  conquer  them  and 
make  them  useful.  .  .  .  But  I  see  that  you  are  not  in 
the  mood  to  discuss  to-day :  you  are  generally  ready 
to  go  off  half-cocked  when  I  let  some  of  my  knowl 
edge  of  the  world  shine  upon  you." 

"Shine?  —  Your  pessimism  has  about  as  much 
shine  in  it  as  a  pair  of  snuffers  .  . .  and  snuffers,  you 
know,  are  things  not  used  in  our  day :  they  were  good 
enough  for  tallow  candles,  but  not  for  electric  lamps 
and  search-lights." 

"Now  I  recognize  you  again,  you  incorrigible 
poet  —  truly  I  can  find  no  harsher  expression.  You 
will  be  breaking  your  dainty  wings  bravely  in  our 
rough  reality,  you  —  there  now,  I  have  invented  still 
another  insult  —  you  cloud-dweller!  But  I  will  no 
longer  beard  you  in  your  own  den  .  .  .  besides,  I  have 
no  time — you  live  horribly  far  away  from  the  bound 
aries  of  civilization.  Let  us  see  you  before  long.  ..." 

When  he  was  left  alone,  Chlodwig  sat  down  again 
at  his  writing-table  and  attempted  to  read  over  the 
last  act  of  his  just-completed  drama,  in  order  to  put 
in  some  last  touches.  But  he  could  not  fix  his  mind 
on  it.  His  thoughts  kept  flying  to  the  old  count's 
deathbed  and  to  the  remarkable  vicissitude  in 
Franka's  fate.  He  felt  impelled  to  speak  to  her,  and 
so  he  took  a  sheet  of  paper  and  began  to  write  with 
out  being  certain  whether  he  should  send  the  letter 
or  not. 

Mistress  of  the  Sielenburg,  I  salute  you! 
This  time  you  have  not  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream,  but 
you  are  vividly  visible  before  my  inward  eye.  For  I  have 

87 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

just  heard  what  has  happened  to  you,  and  I  see  you  sur 
rounded  by  a  thousand  perils  and  by  as  many  —  what  is 
the  opposite  of  perils?  —  I  cannot  find  the  right  expression. 
.  .  .  Well,  as  perils  signify  threatening  misfortune,  so  here 
I  mean  "beckoning  felicity." 

In  my  previous  letter  I  mentioned  things  which  in 
gloomy  days  and  ways  might  offer  shelter  and  refuge  in 
sorrow  and  poverty  —  things  whereby  one  may  win  the 
power  to  rise  above  one's  self.  Now  you  are  rich  —  super 
latively  rich.  You  can  command  everything  that  belongs 
among  the  so-called  "amenities"  of  life:  you  are  protected 
against  cares  and  privations  and  humiliations.  With  your 
wealth  you  can  escape  innumerable  forms  of  suffering; 
whether  you  can  purchase  the  highest  forms  of  enjoyment 
and  pride  in  life  —  depends  on  the  strength  of  your  spirit. 

Against  the  peril  of  wealth  I  suggest  the  same  talisman 
as  was  contained  in  my  former  letter  —  to  elevate  your 
self  above  yourself  —  to  take  hold  on  the  life  of  the  uni 
verse,  on  the  efforts  of  humanity.  The  peril  for  the  rich  is 
in  being  drawn  down  into  the  abyss  of  the  —  ordinary. 
The  banal  duties  of  luxury  waste  time  and  stupefy  the 
intellect.  The  attempt  will  be  made  by  pleasure-seekers 
and  pride-cankered  people  to  whirl  you  away  into  social 
dissipations ;  smart  hussars  and  dragoons  will  besiege  you 
in  order,  by  securing  your  hand,  to  get  possession  of 
estates  where  they  can  enjoy  hunting  and  horse-racing, 
tennis  and  automobiling,  bridge  and  flirting,  and,  if  they 
chance  to  be  aristocrats,  will  make  you  feel  it  bitterly  that 
you  are  not  presentable  at  court. 

Yet  I  know  well  that  life  is  so  full  of  the  unexpected, 
the  uncalculated,  and  the  marvelous,  that  such  general 
warnings,  such  sermonizing,  sounding  as  they  do  rather 
perfunctory,  perhaps  will  find  no  application  to  what  is 
before  you.  But  I  could  not  endure  that  you  should  be 
shunted  over  on  that  track  where  the  society  that  sur 
rounds  you  runs  along  empty  of  all  lofty  aims  and  deaf 
and  blind  to  the  mighty  changes  that  are  in  prepara 
tion.  .  .  . 

88 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

I  do  not  believe  that  the  generation  of  our  day  has  the 
time  to  run  the  cars  of  tradition  over  the  rails  of  conven 
tion  to  the  very  end.  There  are  ominous  signs  flashing 
along  the  horizon.  New  and  unheard-of  events  are  coming 
to  pass  —  and  soon !  And  they  do  not  need  come  by  a 
revolution.  That  also  is  an  ancient  and  probably  anti 
quated  form  of  transformation.  Quite  new  forms  may 
make  their  appearance.  It  may  be  that  the  flashing  yon 
der  does  not  portend  a  tempest;  perhaps  it  is  only  the 
twilight  of  a  rising  sun  —  a  sun  which  none  of  us  has  seen 
as  yet,  for  we  are  still  only  children  of  Barbarism's  polar 
night  which  has  lasted  hundreds,  —  nay,  not  merely  hun 
dreds  but  thousands  of  years.  I  want  to  see  you,  Franka, 
among  the  heralds  of  the  coming  light,  among  those  who 
are  storming  the  cloudy  walls  behind  which  it  is  still  con 
cealed. 

Do  not  believe  that,  because  you  are  a  woman  and 
young  and  beautiful,  such  a  part  is  not  cast  for  you.  The 
new  day  offers  women  also  the  right  of  fighting  in  the 
ranks,  —  or  rather  they  are  winning  it  for  themselves,  — 
and  assuredly  the  old  sagas  gave  them  spears  and  shields 
—  the  Valkyrie  also  are  young  and  beautiful  —  Hojo-to- 
ho!  Heia-ha!  Franka,  become  great,  or  at  least  will 
something  great! 

Mankind  to-day  —  but  so  few  realize  it  —  stands  at  a 
turning-point  more  decisive  than  any  in  its  previous  his 
tory.  This  has  often  been  said  before  —  all  the  instigators 
of  any  political  or  scientific  revolution  have  been  accus 
tomed  to  close  their  manifestoes  with  the  ringing  words : 
"A  new  era  is  beginning";  and  yet  things  remained  ex 
actly  as  they  were  before.  But  now :  —  the  mystery  of 
the  air  —  the  uplift  to  the  heights  —  that  is  going  to 
change  everything,  everything  that  now  goes  under  the 
name  of  civilization.  This  will  make  the  distinction  be 
tween  the  coming  epoch  and  the  present,  one  sharper 
than  between  any  of  the  so-called  epochs  of  history. 
Aye,  everything,  everything  is  to  be  changed,  and  in  a 
tempo  which  will  be  related  to  the  changes  of  earlier  times 

89 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

somewhat  as  an  electric  locomotive  compares  with  a 
pedestrian's  gait,  or  as  a  hurricane  whirling  up  water 
spouts  compares  with  a  summer  breeze  crinkling  the  sur 
face  of  a  pond.  We  shall  not  be  able  to  stand  against  such 
a  tempest.  We  shall  be  either  borne  upon  its  wings,  or 
swept  away  by  it. 

A  friend  has  just  been  scolding  me  as  a  "Poet,"  because 
I  have  the  fault  of  using  figures  of  speech  and  have  the  — 
to  him  —  much  worse  fault  of  being  an  optimist.  Do  not 
be  deceived  by  this,  Franka.  I  am  not  unreasonable.  It 
requires  a  far  keener  sense  to  perceive  the  aroma  of 
beauty  and  goodness  which  penetrates  the  atmosphere  of 
our  lives  than  it  does  to  behold  only  the  harsh  and  hate 
ful,  or  else  to  see  it,  even  where  it  is  not  present.  .  .  . 

I  cannot  bring  this  letter  to  a  close,  so  I  will  simply 
stop.  .  .  . 

That  morning  Franka  received  a  very  abundant 
mail,  consisting  of  congratulations  and  letters  of 
fealty  from  the  various  persons  employed  on  the 
other  estates  that  had  become  hers,  begging  letters 
of  the  most  extraordinary  pretensions  from  unknown 
persons,  offers  of  commodities  from  all  kinds  of  busi 
ness  houses;  and  among  all  the  weeds  one  fresh 
bouquet  —  Chlodwig  Helmer's  second  message  to 
her. 

She  read  the  letter  and  read  it  again,  and  it  gave 
her  pleasure.  What  had  hovered  dimly  before  her 
inward  vision  —  to  dedicate  her  wealth  to  some 
great  and  noble  purpose  —  was  now  put  before  her 
as  a  command:  "Be,  or  at  least  will,  something 
great."  So  then,  there  was  one  person  who  felt  that 
she  was  capable  of  forming  such  a  purpose  and  of 
carrying  it  out;  and  it  was  the  same  person  whose 
ideas  so  completely  coincided  with  her  dear  father's. 

90 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  determined  to  take  the  advice  of  Chlodwig 
Helmer,  —  for  she  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  the 
writer  of  the  unsigned  letter,  —  and  to  ask  him  what 
he  considered  the  great  work  which  she  should  go 
forth,  armed  with  spear  and  shield,  to  accomplish. 
.  .  .  Aye,  it  was  true,  he  was  rather  inclined  to  speak 
metaphorically,  but  behind  his  metaphors  there 
must  be  something  actual  and  comprehensible:  — he 
must  tell  her  and  answer  her  questions. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  letter  served  to  confirm  her 
in  her  as  yet  unformulated  aspirations.  First  of  all, 
she  must  escape  from  the  nets  and  bonds  which  her 
great-aunt  was  anxious  to  throw  around  her.  Up  to 
the  present  time  she  had  postponed  making  any 
explanation;  now  Chlodwig's  letter  gave  her  the 
impulse  to  declare  her  independence  that  very  day. 
She  was  certain  of  Dr.  Fixstern's  practical  coopera 
tion. 

When  at  luncheon-time  she  entered  the  small 
dining-room  where  the  household  were  all  assem 
bled,  she  asked  her  aunt  to  grant  her  an  interview  as 
soon  as  they  had  finished  the  meal. 

"That  will  be  perfectly  convenient,"  replied 
Aunt  Adele.  "  I  also  have  a  number  of  things  that  I 
want  to  say  to  you,  and  we  must  have  a  perfectly 
clear  understanding  regarding  those  things  which  we 
recently  talked  about." 

They  took  their  places  at  table.  It  was  only  a 
small  company.  The  relatives  that  had  come  from 
a  distance  had  taken  their  departure.  Dr.  Fixstern 
also  had  gone  to  Vienna,  and  only  Miss  Albertine, 
Cousin  Coriolan,  and  the  domestic  chaplain  were 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

present  besides  Franka  and  the  countess.  So  far,  the 
affairs  of  the  household  had  gone  on  without  altera 
tion  —  Countess  Adele  held  the  reins,  and  no  in 
structions  were  asked  from  Franka. 

Winter  had  set  in.  The  trees  were  leafless  and 
the  first  fires  were  lighted. 

"We  shall  soon  have  snow,"  remarked  Coriolan. 
"Oh,  how  gay  it  used  to  be  here  in  years  gone  by 
at  this  time  of  the  year.  .  .  .  We  always  had  great 
hunting-parties  ...  a  thousand  hares  on  one  day 
and  often  twenty  or  thirty  guests  at  the  hunting- 
dinner  —  and  then  a  famous  jeu  till  late  at  night. 
Listen,  Franka,  next  year  you  must  certainly  give 
a  hunting-party  ..." 

"I  will  look  out  for  that,"  remarked  Countess 
Adele;  "we  shall  keep  up  to  the  traditions  of  the 
Sielenburg.  The  Sielenburg  Hunts  were  famous  all 
over  the  country.  So  they  were  at  our  other  estates." 

"  Yes,  the  late  count  —  blessed  be  his  memory  — 
was  very  fond  of  hunting  on  his  estate  in  Carinthia," 
said  the  reverend  father;  "there's  a  splendid  run  for 
stags." 

"We  let  it  this  year,"  said  the  countess. 

"Not  to  any  manufacturer  or  Budapest  Jew,  I 
hope?"  exclaimed  Cousin  Coriolan.  "I'd  rather 
have  the  game  run  wild  all  over  the  forest  than  per 
mit  unsuitable  persons  to  hunt  on  a  preserve,  —  and 
big  game,  too,  —  so  that  brokers  might  put  up  a 
sixteen-horned  stag  in  their  offices  where  they  specu 
late  over  futures  in  the  grain-market." 

"Since  you  are  talking  about  grain,  Herr  Baron," 
said  the  reverend  father,  "  the  price  of  flour  has  gone 

92 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

up  again  and  so  have  meat  and  milk.  The  poor 
people,  especially  in  the  cities,  will  soon  be  unable  to 
exist.  You  will  have  an  opportunity,  Miss  Franka, 
to  practice  charity.  Truly,  there  is  much  poverty 
and  the  rising  cost  of  provisions  ..." 

"Who  is  at  fault?"  interrupted  Coriolan.  "The 
low  classes  no  longer  know  what  they  ought  to  want. 
They  want  to  have  theaters  and  concerts,  and  there 
are  always  agitators  who  stir  them  up  to  discontent 
—  unscrupulous  people  —  the  so-called  leaders,  al 
ways  from  the  circle  of  the  intellectuals,  as  the  Free 
masons  and  Jews  like  to  call  themselves.  If  some 
radical  way  is  not  adopted  to  put  an  end  to  this 
mob,  I  am  in  favor  of  driving  them  out,  since  it  is 
against  the  law  to  shoot  them  down.  ..." 

"But,  Baron,"  said  the  reverend  father  sooth 
ingly,  "that  would  be  rather  too  drastic.  The 
working-people  are  quite  right  in  their  desire  to 
better  their  condition!" 

"What  is  that?  —  'better  their  condition'  —  be 
lieve  me,  your  reverence,  in  the  old  days  they  were 
all  far  more  content,  the  artisans  as  well  as  the 
peasants.  My  father  and  my  grandfather  always 
used  to  tell  how  much  better  things  were  before 
1848  than  they  are  now.  The  common  people  were 
under  the  protection  of  the  nobles  .  .  .  they  were 
happy  and  satisfied  and  industrious,  and  they  had 
no  thought  of  the  foolish  nonsense  which  is  now 
preached  to  them  —  equal  rights  and  the  like.  They 
were  far  happier,  indeed,  they  were.  Moreover, 
times  are  growing  worse  and  worse.  A  firm  govern 
ment  must  take  a  hand  and  lock  up  these  pestilen- 

93 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tial  babblers  on  the  Franzensring  —  the  Minister- 
President  ought  ..." 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Coriolan,  don't  begin  to 
talk  politics  again,"  exclaimed  Miss  Albertine.  "It 
is  almost  rude  to  do  so  in  the  presence  of  ladies.  You 
know  we  are  not  interested  in  such  things,  because 
we  don't  understand  them  at  all,  and  we  don't  want 
to  understand  them." 

"I  am  talking  with  the  chaplain  .  .  .  you  are  at 
liberty  to  talk  about  your  own  feminine  trash  ..." 

' '  Feminine  trash,  indeed !  How  coarse  you  are !  I 
must  tell  you  frankly  that  your  manners  often  are 
very  objectionable!  Do  not  be  offended  with  me,  but 
I  make  the  observation  for  your  own  best  good." 

After  luncheon  Countess  Schollendorf  invited 
Franka  to  accompany  her  to  her  room. 

"Here  we  shall  be  quite  undisturbed.  .  .  .  There 
.  .  .  now  tell  me  what  you  have  to  say." 

She  had  sunk  down  on  her  little  sofa,  near  which 
stood  a  small  work-table.  She  took  up  her  knitting, 
for  she  was  assiduous  in  her  endeavors  to  provide  the 
village  children  with  knitted  or  crocheted  caps  and 
underwear.  Franka  took  her  seat  in  an  armchair  at 
the  other  side  of  the  table.  She  was  visibly  agitated. 
Her  mourning-gown  accentuated  the  pallor  of  her 
face,  and  her  mouth  trembled  slightly.  It  was  not  so 
easy  for  her  to  speak  what  was  on  her  mind.  To  be 
sure,  she  had  for  several  days  gone  over  what  she 
intended  to  say,  and  her  intention  was  unshaken, 
but  now,  when  the  moment  had  come,  she  felt  a 
certain  awkwardness. 

"  Now  let  us  have  it.  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 

94 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

You  look  quite  disturbed,  and  at  table  you  did  not 
speak  a  word  .  .  .  are  you  not  quite  well?  You  look 
very  pale.  The  way  you  dress  your  hair  is  not  becom 
ing  to  you  .  .  .  you  must  have  it  done  in  some  other 
way.  When  one  has  such  a  head  of  hair  one  should 
wear  it  in  braids,  otherwise  it  looks  disheveled." 

"What  I  want  to  say  to  you,  dear  aunt,  is  this:  I 
am  going  to  Vienna  to-morrow  and  I  intend  to  take 
up  my  residence  in  my  house  on  the  Wieden  and 
manage  my  own  housekeeping.  I  shall  take  of  the 
servants  here  only  my  maid;  the  rest  may  stay  on 
with  you,  as  I  am  going  to  leave  you  in  charge  of  the 
Sielenburg  so  that  you  may  manage  it  as  long  as  you 
wish,  just  as  you  have  done." 

Countess  Schollendorf  dropped  the  red  woolen 
jacket  with  its  one  completed  sleeve  into  her  lap. 
She  was  speechless. 

Franka,  whose  courage  was  gradually  coming 
back,  continued :  — 

"The  administration  of  my  property  I  am  put 
ting  into  the  hands  of  Dr.  Fixstern,  who  has  always 
enjoyed  my  grandfather's  perfect  confidence,  and 
who  made  only  one  condition,  that  I  should  select  a 
second  assistant  to  share  with  him  the  labor  and 
responsibility  of  this  function." 

"What  does  all  this  mean?  Have  you  lost  your 
wits?  I  do  not  understand  you  .  .  .  you  propose  to 
go  to  Vienna  .  .  .  well,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I 
can  go  there  perfectly  well.  The  winter  here  is  very 
gloomy.  But,  of  course,  this  year  I  cannot  take  you 
out  into  society,  for  we  are  both  in  mourning.  We 
should  naturally  take  the  servants  with  us  —  the 

95 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

cook  and  the  coachman ;  then  only  the  castellan  and 
a  couple  of  housemaids  would  stay  here  .  .  .  but 
leave  all  that  to  me." 

"  Excuse  me,  aunt.  You  did  not  understand  me.  I 
have  invited  you  to  consider  the  Sielenburg  as  your 
home." 

"You  —  ...  me?  .  .  .  invited?" 

"Yes,  for  I  intend  to  keep  house  in  Vienna  myself 
and  be  my  own  mistress." 

"You  are  going  to  live  alone  .  .  .  you?  A  young 
thing  like  you  ...  it  is  scandalous!" 

"I  am  of  age  and  perfectly  independent,  and  I 
know  how  to  manage  my  own  life  in  such  a  way  that 
no  one  will  ever  dare  to  apply  the  word  '  scandalous ' 
to  me." 

"What  audacious  language!" 

"I  will  speak  with  perfect  frankness.  I  propose 
to  take  charge  of  my  own  destiny.  You  lately  ex 
plained  to  me  that  I  was  to  accept  from  your  hands 
a  husband,  a  couple  of  lady  friends,  and  also  a  little 
pocket-money  .  .  .  but  I  intend  to  choose  my  own 
husband  or  not  marry  at  all ;  and  as  to  my  friends  I 
shall  be  able  to  find  them  among  those  who  have 
been  brought  up  as  I  was  and  who  think  as  I  think. 
If  we  two  should  remain  together,  dear  aunt,  there 
would  be  an  endless  unprofitable  battle.  You  would 
always  be  striving  to  remodel  me,  to  educate  me,  to 
lay  down  all  kinds  of  restrictions,  and  to  enforce  all 
sorts  of  commands;  and  I,  on  my  side,  should  try  to 
resist  this  whole  guardianship,  to  escape  from  it,  — 
and  you  would  be  vexed  with  me  all  the  time,  —  in 
short,  it  would  be  for  both  of  us  a  life  of  bitterness. 

96 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  separation  cannot  be  painful  to  either  of  us,  for  I 
was  not  brought  up  here  —  I  belong  to  another  world 
of  ideas,  I  have  quite  another  view  of  life.  We  have 
lived  together  for  only  six  months,  and  in  that  time 
neither  of  us  has  taken  to  the  other;  very  often  you 
have  been  annoyed  with  me,  and  likewise  my  whole 
nature  has  revolted  against  the  attempted  domineer 
ing.  In  spite  of  our  relationship,  we  are  still  stran 
gers.  As  for  the  respect  due  to  the  sister  of  my 
generous  beloved  grandfather,  I  shall  certainly  never 
fail  in  that  ..." 

"You  call  this  respect?  I  call  it  unheard-of 
impudence." 

"You  see  how  little  we  understand  each  other." 

"  I  shall  certainly  not  remain  in  Sielenburg  if  you 
arrogate  to  yourself  the  claim  of  being  the  mistress 
and  allow  me  to  stay  here  as  a  favor." 

"I  am  not  arrogating  ..."    She  stopped. 

"You  mean,  you  are  the  mistress,  and  I  am  your 
guest?  Thank  you  most  humbly." 

"  No,  aunt.  I  certainly  said  the  Sielenburg  should 
be  your  home  with  all  that  it  contains  and  all  that 
appertains  to  it,  and  I  am  ready  to  grant  you  the  use 
of  it  as  long  as  you  live  —  I  mean  for  unrestricted 
use,  that  is  to  say,  with  all  the  revenues  that  belong 
to  it  ...  by  legal  contract." 

The  old  lady  hesitated.  That  was  an  attractive 
offer.  For  Franka  herself  she  cared  very  little.  Only 
a  short  time  before  she  had,  so  to  speak,  proposed 
to  expel  her  from  the  Sielenburg.  She  took  up  her 
knitting  again  and  mechanically  took  a  few  stitches. 

"We  will  think  it  over,"  she  said  after  a  while. 


CHAPTER  VII 
FRANKA'S  SALON 

WITH  the  aid  of  Dr.  Fixstern  and  his  wife,  Franka 
had  established  herself  in  the  Vienna  palace,  hav 
ing  made  first  in  the  company  of  the  doctor  a  trip 
to  Lower  Austria  and  Carinthia  for  the  purpose  of 
acquainting  herself  with  her  two  other  estates.  The 
castles  there  were  fully  as  sumptuous  and  seigneurial 
as  Castle  Sielenburg,  even  if  not  so  comfortable  and 
homelike,  and  the  reason  for  this  was  that  its  own 
ers  had  always  preferred  Schloss  Sielenburg,  while 
Grossmarkendorf  and  Hochberg  generally  stood 
empty.  The  lands  and  industries  belonging  to  them 
were  profitably  rented,  so  that  their  administration 
would  not  occasion  any  care  to  the  possessor.  The 
fixed  revenues  were  to  be  collected  by  the  agent  and 
by  him  turned  over  to  her.  When  Dr.  Fixstern  in 
formed  her  of  the  amount  of  the  income,  she  had  to 
suppress  a  cry  of  astonishment:  so  rich,  so  unbound 
edly  rich  she  was  now! 

"I  must  deserve  it  —  I  must  be  worthy  of  this 
unheard-of  good  fortune  —  if  I  only  knew  how!" 

She  did  not  say  that  aloud.  It  was  like  a  secret 
burden  of  indebtedness  which  she  had  to  carry 
around  with  her.  It  would  have  to  be  paid  —  that 
was  absolutely  certain.  Meantime,  during  this  jour 
ney  through  her  domains,  she  gave  herself  up  to  the 

98 


irresistibly  joyful  pride  which  the  thought,  "mine, 
mine,"  is  wont  to  arouse  in  any  heart. 

She  found  the  Vienna  palace  in  perfect  order; 
only  a  few  slight  alterations  and  refurnishings  were 
necessary  to  render  comfortable  and  tasteful  her 
own  suite  of  rooms.  The  domestics  comprised  the 
major-domo,  who  had  been  connected  with  the 
establishment  for  ten  years,  and  his  wife,  who  was 
installed  as  housekeeper.  Franka  had  brought  her 
own  maid  from  the  Sielenburg.  The  other  servants 
were  new  people.  Franka  had  also  engaged  a  com 
panion.  Her  name  was  Eleonore  von  Rockhaus,  the 
daughter  of  a  naval  officer  and  the  widow  of  a  consul. 
She  had  seen  much  of  the  world,  and  was  a  perfect 
lady.  Her  age  was  about  forty-five.  Her  hair  was 
just  beginning  to  turn  gray,  but  she  had  a  youthfully 
elastic  figure,  and  delicate,  friendly  features ;  she  was 
well  read,  almost  an  artist  on  the  piano,  an  abso 
lute  mistress  of  French  and  English ;  —  in  short,  she 
was  a  jewel  of  a  companion  and  chaperon.  Perhaps 
also  she  would  prove  to  be  a  genuine  friend,  but  as 
to  that  the  future  would  tell.  Provisionally,  the  two 
ladies  were  somewhat  reserved  in  their  intercourse 
.  .  .  first  of  all,  they  had  to  learn  to  know  each  other. 

Franka  did  not  open  her  heart  to  Eleonore  von 
Rockhaus.  What  was  beginning  to  become  a  fixed 
idea  —  that  the  wealth  lavished  upon  her  as  by  a 
gift  of  good  fairies  must  be  spent  for  some  great  pur 
pose,  that  she  herself  must  labor  with  her  whole  soul, 
with  all  her  energies,  with  all  her  gifts  of  body  and 
mind,  so  as  to  confer  upon  the  world  some  advan 
tage,  some  great  blessing  —  this  dream,  as  yet  vague 

99 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  unformulated,  she  did  not  confide  to  her  com 
panion.  First  she  herself  must  go  through  a  noviti 
ate  ;  in  other  words,  test  herself,  acquire  more  knowl 
edge,  look  about  her,  clarify  her  thoughts.  She 
intended  to  question  Helmer  as  to  what  reality 
there  was  behind  the  visions  which  he  outlined  in 
his  letters.  Yet  even  this  she  postponed.  First  she 
desired  to  gain  some  experience  from  intercourse 
with  prominent  men  and  women.  To  this  end  Dr. 
Fixstern  might  be  useful  to  her.  As  a  highly  re 
spected  lawyer,  he  had  a  wide  circle  of  acquaint 
ances,  among  them  scientists,  artists,  statesmen,  and 
could  bring  the  most  interesting  of  them  into  the 
Garlett  palace.  As  for  "Society,"  Franka  had  no 
ambition  at  all.  During  the  first  year  of  mourning, 
following  her  grandfather's  death,  that,  as  well  as 
attendance  at  concerts  and  theaters,  would  naturally 
be  out  of  question ;  but  besides,  she  felt  no  desire  for 
it:  she  knew  that  it  might  divert  her  from  the  serious 
sacred  duties  to  which  she  had  consecrated  herself, 
although  without  having  as  yet  settled  in  her  own 
mind  what  they  should  be. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  two 
ladies  had  come  in  from  their  daily  walk  in  the  Pra 
ter  and  were  sitting  in  the  little  salon.  A  cheering 
warmth  and  a  rosy  glow  radiated  from  the  gas-log; 
the  electric  lights  had  not  been  turned  on.  It  was 
pleasanter  to  rest  and  chat  in  the  twilight. 

"It  is  delicious  here,"  said  Frau  von  Rockhaus, 
leaning  back  in  the  comfortable  armchair.  "I  look 
forward  with  dismay  to  the  time,  probably  not  very 

100 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

distant,  when  you  will  be  getting  married  and  will  no 
longer  need  me." 

"I  am  not  contemplating  being  married — at 
least,  not  for  some  time  yet.  ...  I  like  my  freedom. 
Were  you  happy  in  your  marriage,  Frau  Eleonore?" 

"  Not  so  very.  My  husband  played  me  false  with 
the  most  exotic  women.  Besides,  he  was  quarrel 
some  and  very  arbitrary.  And  yet,  I  liked  him  well 
enough.  That  was  unfortunate,  because  for  that 
very  reason  I  was  tormented  with  jealousy  and  suf 
fered  from  his  stern  and  cold  behavior." 

"That  seems  to  me  the  most  terrible  thing:  an 
unloving  or  an  unloved  husband.  I  would  only 
marry  when  I  was  certain  that  I  loved  the  man  with 
my  whole  heart,  only  when  I  knew  that  he  was  not 
after  my  money  —  but  how  can  one  know  that? 
And  then,  besides,  I  cannot  possibly  marry  yet 
awhile :  I  must  remain  my  own  mistress  in  order  to 
accomplish  a  certain  task." 

"A  task?  What?" 

"Oh,  no  matter —  I  am  not  talking  about  it  as 
yet." 

"The  first  and  most  important  duty  which  a  per 
son,  especially  a  young  and  pretty  girl,  has  to  ful 
fill  is  to  be  happy.  Besides,  what  can  a  woman  un 
dertake  and  accomplish  by  herself?  Of  course,  if  we 
lived  in  England,  you  might  become  a  Suffragette  or 
join  the  Salvation  Army,  but  here  in  Vienna?  There 
would  be  a  chance  for  you  to  join  one  of  the  la 
dies'  committees  in  some  charity  organization,  or  to 
meander  down  into  the  slums  and  distribute  harm 
less  gifts,  or  catechise  the  children  of  the  suburbs; 

10 1 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

our  circle  of  activities  is  so  narrow !  Only  indirectly 
can  we  acquire  any  influence  in  public  affairs,  or  even 
help  direct  the  course  of  history  —  I  mean  when  we 
exert  power  over  some  powerful  man!" 

"And  what  profitable  work  can  this  influential 
individual  do,  according  to  your  idea?" 

"Heavens!  that  I  can't  tell.  Commonly  she  will 
have  to  secure  high  positions  for  her  friends  or  ..." 

"  Certainly,"  interrupted  Franka ; "  commonly  one 
does  the  common  thing.  But  I  am  thinking  of  some 
thing  different.  .  .  .  Play  to  me,  Frau  Eleonore ;  it  is 
so  lovely  to  hear  music  in  the  twilight." 

Frau  von  Rockhaus  went  to  the  grand  piano. 
"What  shall  it  be?  Also  something  out  of  the 
ordinary?" 

"Yes,  'Isoldens  Liebestod,'  please." 

A  moment  later  the  sweet,  passion-swept  chords 
were  floating  through  the  room.  Franka  closed  her 
eyes.  She  breathed  deeply.  What  she  felt  was  a  sort 
of  anguish,  for  it  was  a  longing,  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
a  longing  not  for  something  out  of  the  ordinary,  but 
for  the  simplest  and  most  commonplace  thing  which 
even  the  simplest  and  most  commonplace  maiden 
heart  desires  —  Love !  Yet  what  kind  of  a  person 
must  he  be,  should  she  ever  meet  him  —  the  man 
who  should  be  her  Tristan? 

She  roused  herself  from  her  dreaming.  "No,  no," 
she  said  to  herself  as  she  had  just  said  aloud :  "  I  must 
remain  my  own  mistress." 

Indeed,  there  was  not  a  single  young  man  in  her 
whole  circle  of  acquaintance  to  whom  she  felt  drawn, 
and,  besides,  she  had  no  business  to  be  wishing  and 

102 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

seeking  for  such  a  one  ...  all  her  thoughts  and  feel 
ings  must  be  concentrated  on  the  task  that  hovered 
before  her. 

The  servant  announced  a  caller.  Frau  Eleonore 
left  the  piano  and  turned  on  the  electric  lights.  A 
second  visitor  followed  the  first,  and  then  a  third, 
and,  before  long,  a  little  circle  was  gathered  around 
Franka.  Dr.  Fixstern  had  brought  to  her  a  number 
of  distinguished  personages,  just  as  she  had  wished 
—  people  who  either  had  written  successful  books, 
or  had  played  leading  parts  in  parliament,  or  had 
delivered  popular  courses  of  lectures  at  the  univer 
sity,  or  who  were  famous  as  artists.  There  were  also 
a  few  ministers  of  state  and  foreign  diplomats.  In 
short,  Franka  had  good  reason  to  expect  that  the 
conversation  in  her  drawing-room  would  be  most 
lively  and  interesting:  discussions  of  learned  topics, 
alternating  with  witty  anecdotes  and  edifying  ob 
servations.  Yet  she  was  gradually  led  to  discover 
that  the  conversational  capacity  of  society  does  not 
reach  such  a  high  level.  Occasionally,  indeed,  stir 
ring  talk  may  occur  in  a  salon,  but  only  about  as 
frequently  as  oases  in  a  desert;  the  average  conver 
sation  consists  of  sand  and  simooms,  for  even  choice 
spirits  sink  down  to  the  banal  ground  of  ordinary 
topics,  especially  when  in  a  larger  circle  of  merely 
casual  acquaintances:  the  weather,  the  latest  the 
atrical  gossip,  the  sensational  news  sprung  in  the 
morning  papers,  mingled  with  still  tamer  questions 
and  comments  on  health,  projects  of  travel,  and  the 
like.  And  then  it  is  impossible  to  form  a  circle  of 
nothing  but  prominent  people.  There  will  always 

103 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

be  an  intermixture  of  cordially  futile  Nobodies.  One 
cannot  post  on  the  front  door  the  notice:  "Admit 
tance  only  for  Somebodies!" 

Now  this  afternoon  the  talk  began  to  take  a  very 
interesting  direction. 

A  distinguished  dramatic  author  was  telling  about 
certain  foreign  colleagues  whom  he  had  met  during  a 
summer  journey,  and  he  was  relating  in  his  cleverest 
way  characteristic  anecdotes  about  their  peculiari 
ties.  But  first  he  was  to  describe  the  individuality 
of  the  most  original  of  the  present  day  —  Bernard 
Shaw.  He  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  new 
callers:  Miss  Albertine  von  Beck  and  the  Baroness 
Rinski. 

Not  very  agreeably  surprised,  Franka  went  to 
meet  the  new  guests. 

"You,  dear  Aunt  Albertine?" 

"  I  came  to  Vienna  for  a  few  days,  and  so  of  course 
I  came  to  see  you,  and  I  am  bringing  with  me  a 
friend  who  is  very  desirous  of  making  your  acquaint 
ance." 

The  Baroness  Rinski  was  a  little  elderly  lady  of 
unprepossessing  appearance.  Her  name  was  not 
unknown  to  Franka;  she  had  frequently  seen  it  in 
the  social  columns  of  the  papers  among  the  person 
ages  who  stand  at  the  head  of  various  charitable 
organizations. 

"  I  begged  my  friend  to  bring  me  to  you,  my  dear 
Miss  Garlett,  as  I  place  great  hopes  on  your  aid." 

"If  I  had  known  that  you  were  entertaining  so 
many  this  afternoon,"  said  Albertine,  "we  should 
have  come  at  another  hour.  I  also  have  a  message 

104 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

from  Aunt  Adele.  But  you  do  not  look  particularly 
well,"  she  added  in  her  most  benevolent  tone  of 
voice. 

"Please,  come  with  me,  aunt,  and  you  also, 
Baroness,  —  here  we  can  talk  undisturbed";  and 
she  led  the  two  ladies  to  the  remotest  end  of  the 
salon.  This  seemed  preferable  to  introducing  the 
two  ladies  into  the  circle  of  the  others;  they  could 
continue  listening  to  the  revelations  concerning 
Bernard  Shaw  while  she  sacrificed  herself  to  her  new 
visitors.  She  certainly  felt  that  she  was  a  martyr  as 
she  sat  down  with  the  two  and  tried  to  be  gracious. 

"Well,  what  word  did  my  great-aunt  send  to  me?  " 

"She  sends  you  her  greeting.  I  think  she  is  a  very 
good  woman  —  she  no  longer  seems  to  be  offended 
with  you." 

"But  why  should  she  be  offended  with  me?" 

"Well,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so  —  for  the 
way  you  got  rid  of  us  all.  .  .  .  But  we  will  not  talk 
about  that  now.  Adele  wanted  me  to  tell  you  that 
you  must  come  and  visit  her  at  Sielenburg  —  it 
would  please  her." 

"Thank  you.  Perhaps  I  will,  next  spring."  And, 
turning  to  the  baroness,  she  said:  "What  do  you 
wish  I  should  help  you  about,  Baroness?" 

You  must  not  disappoint  her,  Franka,"  suggested 
Albertine.  "If  you  do  what  the  Baroness  Rinski  is 
going  to  ask  you,  it  will  be  for  your  own  great  ad 
vantage.  You  need  something  to  occupy  you  and 
give  you  some  object  in  life,  something  that  will 
turn  your  great  property  to  a  good  purpose." 

Franka  concealed  her  vexation.  She  had  thought 
105 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

that  she  was  going  to  rid  herself  entirely  of  the 
Sielenburg  protectorate,  and  now  it  was  cropping  up 
again.  She  could  easily  imagine  what  secret  design 
the  Baroness  Rinski  cherished.  She  had  no  objection 
to  devoting  large  sums  to  charitable  ends  and  she 
had  already  done  much  in  that  direction ;  yet  on  this 
score  she  preferred  to  act  in  accordance  with  her  own 
judgment  and  her  own  impulse,  and  not  after  the 
prescription  of  others,  and  she  certainly  did  not  wish 
to  be  drawn  into  the  game  of  charity  as  she  hap 
pened  to  know  it  was  played  by  the  baroness.  As  a 
student  of  social  economic  literature  under  the  wise 
direction  of  her  father,  she  had  won  too  deep  an 
insight  into  the  causes  and  the  ramifications  of  hu 
man  misery,  not  to  know  that  if  she  spent  her  whole 
property  in  alms,  it  would  be  only  a  drop  on  a  hot 
stone.  The  lever  must  be  applied  in  a  very  different 
place,  in  order  to  eradicate  the  evil. 

The  little  baroness  took  a  few  printed  documents 
out  of  her  hand-bag.  "See,  my  dear  young  lady,  here 
are  the  yearly  reports  of  various  societies  on  whose 
boards  I  serve."  And  she  began  with  great  volubility 
to  describe  the  blessings  afforded  by  these  associa 
tions  for  the  rescue  of  babies,  the  protection  of  the 
young,  the  guardianship  of  maidservants,  and  the 
care  of  elderly  persons;  and  she  wanted  Franka  to 
enroll  herself  as  a  patroness  and  undertake  the  office 
of  president  of  a  new  society  for  providing  food  for 
needy  school-children. 

"There  is  nothing,"  she  said  in  conclusion,  "noth 
ing  which  can  better  build  a  golden  stair  up  to 
heaven  than  beneficence.  And  even  here  below  one 

106 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

gains  recognition  by  it;  and  even  if  one  does  not 
belong  to  high  society,  it  affords  an  opportunity  to 
meet  with  ladies  of  high  standing,  and  one  may  even 
expect  to  obtain  the  '  Elizabeth  Order '  of  the  third 
class." 

Franka  laughed  and  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  afraid 
that  there  is  danger  of  slipping  off  the  heavenly 
stairs  if  one  has  at  the  same  time  an  eye  for  such 
earthly  things.  However,  Baroness,  send  me  the 
subscription-list  of  your  associations  —  I  will  gladly 
put  my  name  down  according  to  my  ability,  but  I  will 
not  accept  any  offices." 

"Oh,  I  hope  that  I  shall  be  able  to  change  your 
mind." 

Visitors  taking  their  leave  and  the  arrival  of 
others,  whose  names  were  announced,  rescued 
Franka.  She  was  obliged  to  get  up  and  abandon  her 
place  between  the  two  ladies  in  order  to  devote  her 
self  to  the  departing  and  to  the  new-coming  guests. 
The  Baroness  Rinski  put  her  documents  back  into 
the  bag:  "Come,  Albertine,  we  will  call  on  your 
niece  at  another  time,  when  she  is  alone.  Let  us  say 
good-bye  now." 

Franka  made  no  effort  to  detain  them  and  accom 
panied  them  to  the  door.  "Well,  I  shall  look  for  the 
lists." 

In  the  mean  time  the  dramatic  author  had  con 
cluded  his  interesting  anecdotes  about  the  brilliant 
British  author,  and  the  conversation  had  become 
general,  and  was  turning  on  the  most  unfortunate  of 
all  subjects:  Austrian  politics;  the  German-Bohe 
mian  linguistic  disputes,  Hungarian  confusions  and 

107 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

disorders,  trade  compacts  and  frontier  obstructions, 
new  tariffs  and  increased  prices,  and  all  in  a  tone  of 
complaint  and  lamentation,  such  as  is  generally  used 
when  great  calamities  or  great  crimes  are  discussed, 
as  if  the  whole  activity  of  the  municipality,  of  the 
Parliament,  and  of  the  State  consisted  in  accom 
plishing  as  much  harm  and  causing  as  much  discon 
tent  as  possible.  Franka  said  to  herself:  "  If  Cousin 
Coriolan  were  present,  he  would  know  of  two  sim 
ple  means  of  relief:  to  expel  the  Jews  and  establish 
absolutism." 

"Yes,  you  see,  gentlemen  and  ladies,"  said  a  little 
stout  man  with  shining  eyeglasses  and  equally  shin 
ing  forehead  which  extended  over  to  the  back  of  his 
neck,  "this  is  the  way  things  stand  ..." 

The  others  listened  excitedly,  for  the  speaker  was 
a  highly  respected  publicist,  who,  as  was  well  known, 
enjoyed  the  confidence  of  influential  political  cir 
cles  —  in  other  words,  of  the  ministers  of  internal 
and  external  affairs. 

"We  have  reached  a  great  crisis  in  the  history 
of  our  country.  Everything  which  you  have  been 
lamenting  and  criticizing  is  in  reality  in  a  very 
wretched  condition.  The  dissensions  among  the 
nationalities,  the  passion  for  independence  on  the 
part  of  the  Transleithan  population,  the  dangers 
from  the  Irredentists,  the  activities  of  the  Socialists, 
the  quarrel  over  confession,  and  God  knows  what 
else  —  are  things  which  make  it  seem  as  if  we  were  a 
thoroughly  disunited  and  crumbling  state;  and  so 
many  elements  unfavorable  to  us  or  watching  for 
our  inheritance  may  be  supposed  to  be  all  ready  to 

108 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

do  us  harm ;  and  yet  it  has  been  already  proved  by 
the  crisis  in  the  Balkans  that  we  are  nevertheless  a 
proud,  brave,  first-class  power ;  proud  of  our  strength 
and  brave  to  the  last  degree;  and  that  all  petty  in 
ternal  quarrels  will  disappear  when  necessity  arises 
to  affirm  ourselves  against  outside  encroachments. 
Thus  we  have  compelled  respect  .  .  .  with  our  con 
stituted  power  we  have  proved  that  we  can  act,  that 
we  can  take  hold  together,  that  we  will  not  allow 
ourselves  to  be  moved  by  international  tribunals  and 
conferences,  because  we  are  ready  to  defend  our 
rights,  —  or,  if  you  please,  our  '  bon  plaisir '  —  with 
guns  and  ships.  In  presence  of  this  resolute  atti 
tude,  all  the  intrigues  weaving  against  us  went  to 
smash.  It  came  near  war,  I  know  that;  the  men  on 
the  General  Staff  were  at  fever  heat  to  strike  .  .  .  the 
population  was  enthusiastic,  ready  for  every  sacri 
fice  .  .  .  and  because  our  ally  showed  himself  re 
solved  to  stand  by  us  to  the  ultimate  consequences, 
but  especially  because  we  were  so  firm  and  ener 
getic,  we  won  —  and  that,  too,  without  drawing  the 
sword.  Now  it  is  our  duty  to  solidify  this  position 
which  we  have  acquired  as  a  first-class  power,  if  pos 
sible  to  make  it  still  stronger,  still  more  unassail 
able  —  we  must  build  dreadnoughts.  Perhaps  this 
sounds  harsh  at  a  time  when  all  sorts  of  peace  fads 
are  taking  possession  of  people,  but  of  course  only 
among  those  who  understand  nothing  of  politics  and 
its  modernest  phases,  among  those  who  do  not  know 
that  this  phase  is  imperialism.  Unscrupulousness  is 
the  key  to  a  strong  policy.  Self-consciousness  and 
the  development  of  force  —  that  is  necessary  if  one 

109 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  not  to  be  crushed,  if  one  is  to  have  a  voice  in  the 
council  of  the  nations.  ...  But  I  beg  the  pardon  of 
the  ladies,  and  particularly  of  our  gracious  hostess, 
for  having  touched  on  a  theme  in  which  fortunately 
ladies  are  not  interested.  There  is  scarcely  any 
thing  more  repulsive  than  women  who  meddle  with 
politics." 

Franka  felt  a  sense  of  suffocation  in  her  throat  and 
a  bitter  taste  in  her  mouth.  The  tone  and  the  spirit 
of  the  political  speech  to  which  she  had  just  listened 
were,  indeed,  detestable  to  her.  She  might  have  con 
tradicted  what  he  said ;  for  her  father  had  been  living 
at  the  time  of  that  crisis  to  which  the  imperialistic 
publicist  referred,  and  he  had  closely  followed  the 
course  of  events  and  talked  with  her  about  them. 
She  knew  that  the  populace,  during  the  hasty  and 
secret  mobilization,  was  the  opposite  of  enthusiastic; 
she  knew  that  the  war  so  eagerly  desired  in  high 
military  circles  was  not  allowed  to  break  out  for  the 
reason  that  the  Emperor  Franz  Josef  opposed  it, 
that  peace  was  maintained  —  not  from  fear  of  the 
united  bayonets  of  the  central  states,  but  because 
the  other  powers  desired  to  avoid  a  European  war 
and  by  continual  yielding  removed  all  the  difficul 
ties  that  pointed  to  an  ultimatum.  Franka  might 
have  said  all  this,  but  she  controlled  herself  and 
replied :  — 

"You  need  not  ask  pardon,  Doctor;  perfect  free 
dom  of  thought  and  of  expression  reigns  here." 

At  this  point  some  of  those  present  took  their 
departure,  and  after  a  short  time  the  rest  followed, 
and  Franka  was  left  alone  with  her  companion.  She 

no 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

felt  depressed  —  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  isolation 
and  unprotectedness  overtook  her,  which  is  espe 
cially  sad  when  it  comes  over  one  not  in  actual 
solitude,  but  as  the  aftermath  of  social  inter 
course. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  OUTLINES  OF  A  GREAT  PLAN 

THE  next  day  Franka  asked  Dr.  Fixstern  what  had 
become  of  the  ring  that  her  grandfather  had  left  to 
Herr  Helmer  .  .  .  whether  it  had  been  as  yet  de 
livered.  Dr.  Fixstern  replied  that  the  jewel  was  still 
in  his  possession. 

"Then  please  give  it  to  me  and  write  Mr.  Helmer 
to  come  here;  I  should  like  to  hand  him  his  legacy 
myself." 

A  few  days  later,  Franka  chanced  to  be  alone, 
Frau  Eleonore  having  gone  out  to  make  some  pur 
chases,  and  was  again  engaged  in  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  her  father's  notebooks,  when  Chlodwig 
Helmer  was  announced. 

"Miss  Garlett,  you  sent  for  me?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Helmer.  I  wanted  to  see  you.  .  .  .  Will 
you  not  come  nearer?  ...  I  have  something  to  put 
into  your  hands." 

She  went  to  her  writing-table  where  the  box  with 
the  ring  was  lying.  "You  see,  my  grandfather  in 
tended  this  for  you  as  a  remembrance,  and  I  felt  it 
important  to  deliver  it  to  you  myself." 

Franka  spoke  with  a  rather  unsteady  voice,  for 
she  was  conscious  that  she  was  not  speaking  the 
absolute  truth.  She  did  not  regard  the  personal 
transfer  of  the  ring  as  so  important,  and  what  had 
been  the  motive  of  her  summoning  the  young  man 

112 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

had  been  the  wish  —  it  was  almost  a  longing  —  for 
his  presence,  as  if  she  might  find  in  him  a  refuge,  a 
support,  a  defense!  He  who  cherished  ideas  very 
similar  to  those  that  were  expressed  in  those  note 
books  —  he  who  had,  so  to  speak,  uttered  his  com 
mand  to  do  the  "something  great"  for  which  her 
inmost  being  yearned  —  he  might  be  able  to  show 
her  the  way.  .  .  . 

Helmer  took  the  ring  and  put  it  on  his  finger. 
"This  will  always  be  a  doubly  cherished  remem 
brance  —  I  had  a  very  high  regard  for  Count  Sielen. 
He  was  a  dear  man,  a  noble  mind  .  .  .  and  that  you, 
yourself,  Fraulein  Franka  .  .  ."  he  hesitated. 

"  Come,  let  us  sit  down  and  talk  about  my  grand 
father.  You  knew  him  much  longer  than  I  did." 

The  conversation  stretched  out  for  half  an  hour 
without  Franka's  being  able  to  muster  courage  to 
direct  it  to  the  subject  which  was  uppermost  in  her 
mind.  They  talked  about  the  late  count,  about  the 
life  at  the  Sielenburg,  about  what  had  happened 
since  that  time,  but  not  a  word  was  said  about  what 
both  were  thinking.  Each  was  regarding  and  study 
ing  the  other  as  they  talked,  and  each  might  have 
observed  that  their  thoughts  were  not  on  what  they 
were  saying. 

Franka's  eyes  rested  inquisitively  on  Chlodwig  — 
had  he  written  the  letters  or  not?  His  exterior  ap 
pearance  seemed  changed;  was  he  unprepossessing? 
Had  she  ever  really  thought  him  so?  And  yet  cer 
tainly  no  one  could  call  him  handsome;  his  clean 
shaven  face  was  too  lean,  his  chin  too  long,  his  lips 
too  thin ;  but  if  he  was  decidedly  not  handsome,  his 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

features  were  certainly  interesting.  Franka  also  no 
ticed  something  which  she  had  not  observed  at 
Sielenburg:  Chlodwig  had  particularly  expressive 
hands  —  narrow,  white,  well  cared  for,  not  at  all 
effeminately  soft  —  on  the  contrary,  quite  power 
ful;  and  everything  which  their  possessor  said  was 
emphasized  by  these  hands  with  quick  and  pecu 
liarly  vivacious  gestures;  these  were  aristocratic 
hands,  full  of  character. 

Chlodwig  also  contemplated  his  companion. 
Franka  seemed  to  him  slightly  altered.  The  some 
what  childlike  expression  which  had  formerly  char 
acterized  her  features,  and  which  even  now  came 
evanescently  into  them  when  she  smiled,  had  given 
way  to  a  more  serious  and  energetic  expression  — 
she  seemed  to  him  more  womanly,  more  mature. 
•  After  half  an  hour  Chlodwig  got  up:  "I  fear 
that  I  have  stayed  too  long.  Accept  my  thanks 
again,  Fraulein  Franka,  and  permit  me  to  say  good 
bye." 

"No,  no,  sit  down  again;  I  have  something  else 
that  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about." 

Helmer  obeyed.  A  short  pause  ensued. 

Franka  was  trying  to  find  the  right  words  to  begin 
with.  Then  with  sudden  resolution:  "Did  you  write 
me  two  letters?" 

Chlodwig's  cheeks  grew  red  as  fire.  "Yes,"  he 
answered. 

"I  knew  it." 

"Forgive  the  form  which  ..." 

"Never  mind  the  form;  the  substance  is  im 
portant  to  me.  You  gave  me  some  advice  —  you 

114 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

almost  laid  down  the  law,  and  I  should  like  to  do 
what  you  demand  of  me ;  only  you  must  say  what  . . . 
how!  I  must  become  great,  at  least,  attempt  to  do 
something  great.  What  do  you  consider  me  capable 
of  doing?  What  do  you  consider  great?  Instead  of 
vague  words,  I  desire  to  hear  from  you  some  definite, 
tangible,  feasible  scheme." 

Chlodwig's  eyes  beamed  with  delight.  "Really, 
you  will  ..." 

"Yes.  An  enormous  property  has  fallen  into  my 
possession  .  .  .  that  pledges  me  .  .  .  what  ought  I  to 
do,  what  can  I  do,  apart  from  so-called  charity?" 

"What  can  you  do?  In  order  to  answer  that,  I 
must  know  you  better,  Miss  Franka;  I  must  measure 
the  flying  capacity  of  your  soul.  The  young  girl  to 
whom  I  wrote  was  more  a  vision  of  my  fancy  than  of 
my  experience.  What  do  I  know  of  your  real  nature, 
of  your  views,  of  your  ideals,  your  powers?" 

"I  believe  I  have  the  same  ideals  as  you  have, 
Mr.  Helmer;  otherwise  your  letters  would  not  have 
awakened  an  echo  in  my  soul  —  and  as  to  my 
views?"  She  took  up  from  the  table  the  notebooks 
in  which  she  had  just  been  reading  and  handed  them 
to  Helmer.  "Glance  over  these  notes  .  .  .  they  are 
extracts  from  the  thoughts  of  my  father  and  in 
structor,  who  tried  to  form  me  after  his  own  model. 
You  will  find  ideas  and  expressions  like  those  in  your 
own  letters.  And,  look,  these  are  my  favorite  books." 
She  directed  his  attention  to  a  book-rack  which  hung 
on  the  wall  behind  her  writing-table.  "They  came 
from  my  father's  library,  and  they  are  the  fountains 
from  which  he  nourished  my  mind.  My  father's 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ideas  and  yours  are  in  accordance  —  so,  Chlodwig 
Helmer,  in  spirit  we  are  brother  and  sister  ..." 

At  this  moment  Frau  Eleonore  entered  the  room 
without  knocking.  She  had  several  packages  in  her 
hands:  "Here  I  am,  dear  Franka.  Forgive  me  if  I 
was  gone  too  long  ..." 

The  two  others  both  thought  simultaneously, 
"Not  long  enough!" 

Franka  introduced  her  caller.  Frau  Eleonore 
shook  hands  with  him  and  then  began  to  undo  her 
packages.  "Please  look,  dear  Franka,  and  see  if 
these  are  the  right  kind." 

Helmer  in  the  mean  time  was  doing  as  he  had 
been  bidden:  he  glanced  through  the  notebooks 
and  examined  the  volumes.  Then  he  came  back  to 
Franka  and  said :  — 

"May  I  go  now?  As  soon  as  you  send  me  word,  I 
will  be  at  your  service  again." 

"And  will  you  give  me  the  answer  which  I  desired 
just  now?  I  mean  that  concrete  plan  ..." 

"Will  you  permit  me,  in  the  mean  time  to  lay 
before  you  in  writing,  not  the  whole  plan,  but  only 
the  sketch  of  it,  in  broad  lines?" 

"As  you  please  .  .  .  that  will  make  the  third  letter 
in  my  collection.  Very  good,  then,  I  will  expect  the 
broad  lines.  The  details  afterwards,  by  word  of 
mouth.  Auf  wiedersehen,  Herr  Helmer!" 

"Who  is  that  young  man?"  asked  Frau  Eleonore, 
after  the  door  had  closed  behind  Chlodwig. 

"A  signpost  at  the  crossing  of  the  ways." 

"What?   I  did  not  understand  you." 

"It  is  not  necessary." 

116 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Not  a  suitor  —  I  hope?" 
''No,  Godforfend!" 

Franka  was  not  kept  waiting  long  for  Chlodwig's 
letter.  She  opened  it  with  eagerness  and  read :  — 

The  third  letter  in  the  collection.  So,  then,  it  must  be 
written  in  the  same  tone  as  the  first  and  the  second  — 
from  soul  to  soul.  I  will  not  begin  with  the  formal 
"Gnadiges  Fraulein"  .  .  .  that  expression  we  will  leave 
for  verbal  intercourse,  but  with  "Franka"  again,  and  the 
confidential  "Du."  We  are  brother  and  sister  in  spirit — 
you  said  so,  yourself. 

Now,  then,  —  the  plan  in  broad  outline:  you  ought  to 
be  the  proclaimer  of  a  women's  gospel  —  the  field- 
marshal  of  a  feminine  crusade  of  conquest.  Mankind 
from  now  on  is  facing  mighty  tasks  which  it  can  accom 
plish  only  when  its  two  halves  grasp  and  fulfill  these  tasks. 
"All  hands  on  deck"  is  the  cry  at  sea  at  critical  moments, 
and  when  the  ship  "Mankind"  is  staggering  on  moun 
tainous  billows,  then  all  hands  must  be  at  their  posts. 
My  conviction  that  we  are  now,  at  this  very  moment,  at 
the  beginning  of  a  fateful  revolution  is  founded  on  the 
unheard-of  marvel:  a  man  can  fly!  His  artificial  wings 
have  conquered  the  tempest!  His  war-cry  must  hence 
forth  be  "Up  and  away!"  in  all  fields  of  activity.  Active 
service  in  the  heights  devolves  upon  him,  and  woman  is 
not  exempted  from  this  duty  of  service.  The  awakening 
call  must  rouse  her  also,  and  I  look  upon  you  as  the  one 
to  give  the  alarm. 

Perhaps  you  imagine  that  I  am  asking  you  to  become  a 
militant  feminist,  to  form  a  new  Women's  Union  and  join 
your  forces  with  the  already  widespread,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  successful,  endeavors  to  gain  for  women  the  right 
to  play  the  same  part  in  the  academic  and  political  arena 
as  men  do.  As  a  goal  the  doctor's  cap,  public  offices, 
"Votes  for  Women."  This  movement  may  go  its  own 

117 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

way.  I  have  no  notion  of  putting  any  limit  to  it.  But 
what  I  have  in  mind  is  something  quite  different  —  the 
new  woman  is  not  to  strive  for  the  masculine  positions 
and  functions  in  the  State  which  we  men  have  created 
for  ourselves;  not  the  appropriation  of  those  masculine 
qualities  which  are  required  for  the  political  game  as  we 
men  play  it;  least  of  all,  the  attainment  of  the  privilege  of 
libertinism,  in  accordance  with  which  we  men  live;  but 
she  is  to  help  in  the  construction  of  a  State,  of  a  political 
machine,  of  a  manner  of  life,  worthy  of  noble  women 
sharing  in  it. 

To  this  end,  in  the  first  place,  it  behooves  women  not  to 
stand  aloof;  not  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  the  machinery 
of  the  State,  of  the  complicated  intrigues  and  hidden  wires 
of  politics,  of  the  laws  which  rule  economic  and  social 
life.  Secondly,  they  must  cultivate  to  their  richest  flower 
ing  the  virtues  that  are  regarded  as  specifically  feminine, 
—  kindness,  purity,  tenderness,  —  so  that  when  they 
enter  public  life,  this  also  may  be  permeated  with  those 
qualities.  They  will  serve  an  ethical  State  —  they  will 
practice  ethical  politics.  They  will  then  be  the  most  de 
voted  colleagues  to  those  men  who  even  now  are  setting 
up  an  ethical  ideal  for  State  and  politics,  and  who  are 
attacking  the  firmly  intrenched  error,  that  State  and  poli 
tics  stand  on  the  other  side  of  morals,  —  a  fatal  error  —  for 
it  is  responsible  for  the  condition  of  ignorance,  of  enmity, 
and  of  barbarism  from  which  poor  humanity  has  up  to  the 
present  been  suffering.  To  be  sure,  it  has  already  made  con 
siderable  progress  —  though  slowly  —  from  that  aboriginal 
barbarism ;  the  domain  of  security  and  solidarity  has  grad 
ually  been  enlarged.  But  this  "  gradually  "  can  no  longer 
satisfy  us  to-day,  when  the  electric  spark  can  be  flashed 
from  the  Eiffel  Tower  to  the  Statue  of  Liberty.  To  crawl 
forward,  to  climb  up  —  that  no  longer  belongs  to  our  age, 
now  that  we  have  learned  to  mount  on  wings.  Up  yonder 
we  need  no  winged  devils  to  scatter  melinite  on  our  habi 
tations  ;  our  greatest  haste  is  to  become  human :  —  there 
fore,  "All  hands  on  deck!"  Therefore,  whoever  feels  him- 

118 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

self  under  a  pledge  to  accomplish  something  great  must 
trumpet  forth  the  alarm  to  awaken  all  the  powers  of  rea 
son  and  good  will  that  are  still  slumbering. 

And  in  what  way,  Franka,  do  I  feel  sure  you  are  bound 
to  summon  your  sisters?  By  taking  part  in  the  Woman 
Movement?  That  I  have  already  answered  in  the  nega 
tive.  By  means  of  a  book?  Alas!  how  few  read  books! 
No,  through  the  living  word,  through  the  magic,  the  mag 
netism,  of  personality,  the  might  of  individual  enthusi 
asm.  I  see  you  standing  on  the  platform,  your  "Wal- 
kiiren"  fire  under  control  of  maidenly  dignity,  worshipful 
as  a  priestess,  glorified  like  a  seeress  .  .  . 

Let  me  tell  you :  I  .was  still  a  very  young  boy  when  I 
received  a  deep  and  overpowering  impression  from  such 
a  priestly  speaker,  but  who  was  not  a  priest,  —  he  was  a 
soldier,  —  Moritz  von  Egidy,  a  Prussian  colonel  of  hus 
sars.  He  had  begun  by  writing  a  book,  called  "Earnest 
Thoughts,"  and  at  the  same  time  they  were  free  thoughts. 
That  was  not  regarded  as  compatible  with  discipline  and 
he  was  obliged  to  resign  from  the  army.  His  leading  mo 
tive  was:  "Religion  not  as  a  part  of  our  life,  but  our  life  as 
religion."  What  he  meant  by  religion  was  nothing  dog 
matic,  only  ethical.  He  had  attained  that  idea  by  earnest 
thoughts,  and  he  proposed  to  bring  his  contemporaries  to 
a  similar  view  by  earnest  willing!  In  almost  all  the  Ger 
man  cities  he  gave  public  addresses  with  unexampled  suc 
cess.  The  largest  halls  in  which  he  spoke  were  packed  to 
suffocation  and  thundered  with  sympathetic  applause. 

The  effect  was  tremendous.  Soon  Egidy  congregations 
began  to  be  formed.  But  all  too  quickly  he  was  struck 
down  by  death.  What  he  thought,  what  he  preached,  — 
never  in  an  unctuous,  clerical  tone,  but  with  the  military 
voice  of  command,  —  I  need  not  tell  you  here.  I  only 
wished  to  bring  him  up  as  an  example  —  for  such  is  the 
kind  of  work  which  it  seems  to  me  you  ought  to  under 
take:  teacher,  leader,  prophetess,  you  must  be!  Unend 
ingly  rich  can  be  the  blessing  flowing  from  your  activity. 

I  imagine  this  influence  as  simply  overpowering.  You 
119 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

would  be  the  first  and  only  person  who  ever  came  forward 
in  such  a  way.  Never  before  was  there  a  young  maiden 
who  attempted  such  a  thing,  and  the  magic  of  youth  and 
beauty  will  magnify  tenfold  the  might  of  personal  magnet 
ism.  Your  great  property  and  your  position  in  the  world 
will  give  you  the  opportunity  of  carrying  out  your  scheme 
without  any  material  difficulty  —  you  can  engage  the 
largest  hall  in  every  city  —  entrance  free  to  every  one  .  .  . 
off  the  stage  you  will  appear  the  great  lady  that  you  are. 

Independent,  beyond  criticism,  famous  (you  would  be 
famous  in  the  very  shortest  time),  —  admired  and  hon 
ored,  you  would  be  able  everywhere  to  gather  around 
you  the  heads  of  society  and  there  use  your  influence. 
You  yourself  would  grow  by  your  own  work  —  the  higher 
you  try  to  fly,  the  greater  will  be  your  ability  to  use  your 
wings,  and  the  traces  of  your  spirit  will  be  visible  in  the 
moral  progress  of  this  generation  and  of  those  to  come. 
I  do  not  say  this  to  stimulate  your  ambition,  but  to 
strengthen  your  spirit  of  sacrifice,  for  I  know  already  that 
your  desire  is  to  accomplish  something  noble,  and  to  do 
that,  you  must  be  prepared  for  many  troubles  and  must 
renounce  much.  Like  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  you  must 
crush  your  own  impulses  and  desires  under  your  coat  of 
mail.  For  if  you  should  give  your  heart  and  hand  to  any 
man,  it  would  be  all  up  with  your  independence.  And, 
moreover,  even  if  your  chosen  one  should  admit  of  your 
independence,  it  would  be  all  up  with  the  magic  influence. 
For  at  least  a  decade  you  ought  to  devote  yourself 
entirely  to  your  task. 

You  cannot  begin  immediately,  not  to-morrow.  You 
must  have  some  time  for  preparation,  for  growth,  for 
study.  A  quiet  novitiate  before  the  dedication;  and 
because  your  position  conditions  your  prestige,  you  must 
first  make  your  position  solid.  You  must  win  the  respect 
of  high  society;  you  must  win  general  admiration  and 
consideration.  At  your  very  first  appearance  on  the  plat 
form,  it  must  be  known,  to  all  the  city  and  to  the  world, 
that  the  person  who  is  going  to  deliver  the  lecture  is  the 

1 20 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

celebrated  and  beautiful  young  heiress  of  the  Count 
Sielen's  estates,  honored  because  of  her  generous  expen 
ditures  and  reputed  to  have  refused  many  advantageous 
offers ;  —  then  the  hall  for  the  very  first  time  will  be  taken 
by  storm.  And  in  order  that  the  technical  side  be  not 
neglected,  you  must  have  taken  instruction  in  the  art  of 
elocution,  in  the  modulating  of  your  voice. 

I  have  finished.  I  have  really  done  more  than  lay  down 
the  outlines  of  the  plan  —  I  have  also  indicated  some  of 
the  details. 

Now  you  can  test  yourself;  you  can  demand  of  your 
desires,  of  your  conscience,  whether  a  way  has  been  indi 
cated  and  whether  you  will  follow  it. 


CHAPTER  IX 
FRANKA'S  DEBUT  AND  CAREER 

FRANKA  read  the  letter  over  a  second  and  a  third 
time  —  then  she  let  it  sink  into  her  lap  and  fell  into 
deep  thoughts.  She  was  sitting  alone  in  her  sleeping- 
room;  on  the  table  before  her  stood  the  breakfast- 
tray,  and  beside  it  her  mail,  as  yet  untouched.  In 
the  stove  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning:  the  windows, 
through  which  could  be  seen  the  trees  of  the  garden 
behind  the  palace,  were  open  and  warm  sunbeams 
came  laughing  in,  for  it  was  already  springtime. 
There  was  occasionally  a  cool  breath  of  air,  full  of 
that  spring  fragrance  which  does  not  come  from 
violets,  but  suggests  violets.  Such  a  breath  fans  in 
young  hearts  the  fire  of  longing  —  longing  for  the 
joys  of  life. 

Franka  stood  up,  still  holding  the  letter  in  her 
hand,  and  went  to  the  window.  She  looked  down 
into  the  garden ;  it  was  not  large,  and  behind  the  still 
leafless  trees  could  be  seen  the  walls  and  roofs  of  the 
houses  beyond  .  .  . 

"How  lovely  it  must  be  now  in  my  parks  and 
forests,"  thought  Franka.  Nothing  would  prevent 
her  from  journeying  to  them.  A  sense  of  pride  in 
possession  and  of  joyous  freedom  swelled  her  heart. 
The  world  lay  open  before  her  .  .  .  how  easily,  how 
freely  might  she  not  pluck  all  the  blossoms  of  enjoy 
ment.  But  she  flung  these  thoughts  away  from  her. 

122 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"To  accomplish  something  great"  —  that  was  her 
task,  that  was  the  aim,  held  up  as  a  command  be 
fore  her  conscience,  and  now  she  had  in  her  hands 
what  she  wanted  —  a  concrete  programme,  a  defi 
nite  way. 

There  were  men  in  the  world  —  there  was  one 
man  —  who  regarded  her  with  confidence  and 
esteem,  who  had  such  a  high  idea  of  her  that  he 
believed  she  might  be  an  apostle,  a  leader  .  .  .  oh,  if 
that  only  might  be,  if  only  she  had  the  strength,  the 
courage,  and  the  fire  to  carry  others  along  with  her, 
to  lift  them  up!  And  like  an  electric  shock  there 
flashed  through  her  that  lightning  of  the  will  which 
bears  the  name  of  resolve:  "Yes,  I  will  do  it!" 

She  stepped  from  the  window  and  stood  in  front  of 
her  great  pier-glass  as  if  to  strengthen  her  resolution 
by  means  of  a  vow  spoken  in  presence  of  herself. 
The  mirror  reflected  a  lovely  picture.  The  tall, 
graceful,  maidenly  figure,  clasped  in  the  folds  of 
a  soft,  white  cashmere  morning-gown,  the  head 
crowned  by  a  heavy  diadem  of  braids  and  proudly 
thrown  back,  the  cheeks  brilliantly  colored,  the 
dark-red  lips  slightly  parted  and  showing  the 
gleaming  white  teeth:  so  she  stood  for  a  little  while, 
and  then  she  repeated  the  sentence  aloud  again: 
"Yes,  I  will  do  it!" 

Franka  went  to  her  desk  and  wrote  a  line  or  two, 
then  she  rang  for  her  maid:  "Send  this  dispatch 
immediately."  The  telegram  was  addressed  to 
Chlodwig  Helmer  and  ran:  "  I  expect  you  to-day  for 
a  further  talk." 

Frau  Eleonore  entered  the  room:  "Not  yet 
123 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

dressed,  dear  Franka?  And  we  have  such  a  busy 
day  before  us !  Look  —  I  have  jotted  everything 
down:  at  eleven  o'clock  the  betrothal-service  of  the 
Archduchess  —  we  have  cards  admitting  us  to  the 
Augustiner  Church ;  then  Drecoll  expects  you  to  try 
on  three  dresses  —  that  will  take  at  least  two  hours. 
There  is  the  reception  of  the  eight  lady  artists  at 
Pisco's  — you  promised  to  go,  and  we  must  be  sure 
to  see  the  exhibition  of  flowers  at  the  Botanical 
Society  —  to-day  is  the  last  day.  It  is  also  Baroness 
Rinski's  jour;  then  .  .  ." 

"Shut  up  your  notebook  —  I  am  not  going  out 
at  all.  I  am  expecting  a  caller.  All  that  you  have 
told  me  seems  to  me  so  trivial,  so  trivial  .  .  .  Frau 
Eleonore,  I  am  at  the  turning-point  of  my  life  ..." 

"You  are  to  be  married!  ...  I  ought  to  have 
been  prepared  for  it,  but  it  is  a  hard  blow  for 
me." 

"No.  I  am  not  to  be  married.  Yet,  would  that 
affect  you  so?" 

"Of  course,  because  you  would  not  need  my  serv 
ices  any  longer." 

"  I  shall  need  you  more  than  ever.  ...  I  want  you 
to  accompany  me  on  my  journeys." 

"What  journeys?" 

"I  will  explain  it  all  to  you  later.  Meanwhile  I 
will  ask  you  to  give  orders  that  I  am  at  home  to  no 
one,  absolutely  no  one,  with  the  exception  of  Mr. 
Helmer." 

"That  is  an  extraordinary  order  —  what  will  your 
servants  think.  Especially  this  Mr.  Helmer.  ...  I 
wanted  to  tell  you,  the  other  day,  when  I  found  you 

124 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

t£te-a-tete  with  him,  that  it  is  not  at  least  very  good 
form  for  you  to  .  .  ." 

"Frau  Eleonore,"  interrupted  Franka,  "I  look  on 
you  as  my  companion  —  a  very  pleasant  companion 

—  who  may  very  possibly  become  my  friend  —  but 
not  a  governess,  please!" 

Frau  Eleonore  bit  her  lips.  "Pardon  me!  Older 
people  always  believe  themselves  justified  in  giving 
younger  ones  advice  on  the  ground  of  their  experi 
ence  —  it  is  a  bad  habit." 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Helmer  was  an 
nounced.  He  had  been  away,  and  consequently  had 
not  received  the  telegram  in  time.  Franka  was 
beginning  to  grow  impatient.  She  sat  in  her  little 
salon;  Frau  Eleonore  was  reading  to  her  from  the 
evening  paper,  but  Franka  did  not  listen.  If  only 
Chlodwig  would  come  soon. 

When  the  footman  announced  her  caller,  her  heart 
fluttered  as  if  she  were  expecting  a  lover.  But  she 
was  not  in  love.  Helmer  seemed  to  her  only  as  the 
director  of  her  future  career ;  he  was  not  only  going 
to  point  out  the  way,  but  also  to  make  it  smooth  for 
her,  support  her  first  steps.  And  then  that  kinship  in 
ideas!  Among  all  the  strangers,  among  these  indif 
ferent  people  in  whose  midst  she  had  lived  since  her 
father's  death,  this  was  one  person  allied  to  her,  a 
fellow-countryman  from  the  home  region  of  her  soul 

—  actually  a  brother;  and  therefore  her  heart  was 
drawn  toward  him. 

"Ask  him  to  come  in,"  said  she  to  the  footman; 
and  then,  turning  to  her  companion,  she  said: 
"Remain  here,  but  please  do  not  interrupt  with  a 

125 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

word  or  a  question  while  we  are  talking;  later  you 
will  know  all  about  it." 

Chlodwig  entered.  He  also  was  inwardly  much 
agitated.  He  had  not  expected  that  Franka  would 
so  speedily  accept  his  proposition.  He  was,  there 
fore,  filled  with  pride  and  delight  at  the  thought  of 
it ;  and  beneath  it  all  there  was  also  a  vague  sense  of 
being  in  love,  yet  without  passion  and  without  ex 
pectation.  When  he  first  saw  her,  his  imagination  had 
been  somewhat  kindled  by  her  beauty,  but  never  had 
he  gone  to  the  extent  of  thinking  that  it  was  within 
the  bounds  of  possibility  for  him  to  win  her ;  still  less 
since  she  had  become  a  millionairess.  And  now  that 
she  desired  to  devote  herself  to  the  vestal  consecra 
tion  of  a  great  service,  she  seemed  to  him  absolutely 
removed  from  the  domain  of  love  and  marriage. 

He  drew  nearer:  "You  sent  for  me,  gnadiges 
Fraulein." 

The  presence  of  the  stranger  disturbed  him. 
Franka  noticed  it.  She  asked  him  to  sit  down. 

"  We  can  talk  without  constraint.  My  friend  must 
be  initiated  into  all  my  plans  —  she  will  accompany 
me  on  my  tournees.  And  now,  how  am  I  to  begin?" 

Helmer  paused  to  consider.  "The  first  step,"  he 
said  after  a  little  while,  "is  the  engagement  of 
an  elocution  teacher.  The  technical  side  must  be 
conquered.  After  that  one  may  get  the  mastery  of 
the  ideal  side.  Frau  von  Rockhaus  will  get  the 
notion,"  said  he,  in  a  different  tone  of  voice,  "that 
you  are  intending  to  go  on  the  stage  if  she  hears  us 
talking  of  tournees  and  elocution  masters.  And  yet 
how  far,  how  high  above  that,  stands  our  plan! 

126 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

What  you  propose  to  accomplish  is  related  to  the  art 
of  acting  —  however  noble  that  may  be  —  as  the 
Zeppelin  stands  above  a  wheelbarrow." 

"Your  thoughts  move  much  in  the  upper  regions 
of  the  air,  Mr.  Helmer." 

"Yes,  Miss  Franka,  the  conquest  of  this  element 
gave  me  the  impulse  to  my  poetry  and  my  aspira 
tions,  and  this  thought  must  also  serve  as  the 
foundation  of  your  work." 

"What  is  your  poetry?  What  are  your  aspira 
tions?" 

Helmer  explained.  His  poetry  was  not  to  be 
understood  merely  in  a  figurative  sense;  he  was 
actually  writing  poetry !  He  told  of  the  books  which 
he  had  already  written  and  those  which  he  had  in 
mind  to  write.  Above  all,  the  great  epic  "  Pinions." 
And  as  he  in  eloquent,  fiery  words  explained  the 
meaning  and  purpose  of  this  poem,  and  recited  some 
of  the  lines,  out  of  these  words  a  light  fell  on  Franka 
as  to  the  meaning  of  the  work  which  lay  before  her. 
The  conversation  lasted  nearly  two  hours.  The 
plan  was  discussed  alternately  in  its  details  and  then 
in  its  great  outlines  —  lines  lost  in  sublime  dis 
tances,  where  to-day  Franka's  spiritual  eyes  for  the 
first  time  penetrated. 

It  had  struck  eight  o'clock.  Helmer  was  on  the 
point  of  taking  his  departure. 

"No,  no,"  cried  Franka,  "now  you  must  have 
supper  with  us  —  informally  —  just  we  three  alone. 
Please,  Frau  Eleonore,  you  are  sitting  near  the  bell, 
ring  for  supper  to  be  served.  You  poor  creature 
must  be  all  used  up  by  silently  listening  to  all  these 

127 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

wonderful  things.  You  need  something  to  strengthen 
you,  and  so  do  we  two." 

"Uff!"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Rockhaus  as  she 
touched  the  bell,  and  after  she  had  given  the  order 
to  the  servant,  "Supper  for  three,"  she  again  uttered 
her  "Uff!"  adding,  it  was  high  time  and  ten  minutes 
more  had  turned  her  crazy. 

Franka  laughed:  "Did  you  understand  what  we 
were  talking  about?" 

"Well,  yes,  fairly  well.  Mr.  Helmer  wants  to 
build  a  new  flying-machine.  You  are  going  to  fly  up 
into  the  air,  and  from  up  there  deliver  addresses  — 
and  so  you  need  to  have  lessons  in  declamation.  You 
will  not  touch  upon  the  right  of  'Women  to  vote,' 
but  you  will  make  the  whole  sex  mobile  so  that  they 
can  carry  on  their  activities  somewhere  in  the  upper 
regions.  Then,  there  is  to  be  a  circuit  through  the 
German  cities  —  or  is  it  through  an  epic  in  ten 
books?  —  tending  to  introduce  a  new  civilization; 
and  the  requisites  for  this  simple  scheme  are  as  far 
as  I  could  make  out  —  air-propellers,  moral  search 
lights  and  a  Valkyrie's  horse." 

Chlodwig  laughed  heartily,  so  heartily  that 
Franka  listened  in  surprise;  she  had  never  heard  him 
laugh  so  before.  It  sounded  so  merry,  so  boyish,  so 
entirely  different  from  what  might  have  been  ex 
pected  from  that  serious  man  who  had  just  been 
talking  with  her  on  the  gravest  of  world-problems  — 
a  man  whom  she  had  judged,  particularly  from  his 
behavior  on  the  Sielenburg  and  from  the  tone  of  his 
letters,  and  also  from  the  thoughtful  expression  of 
his  face,  to  be  rather  inclined  to  melancholy. 

128 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Now  all  three  were  in  the  most  cheerful  mood,  and 
during  the  little  supper  not  a  word  further  was  said 
about  the  serious  plans  for  the  future;  the  jesting 
tone  that  had  been  hit  upon  was  preserved  through 
out;  several  times  again,  though  more  quietly,  rang 
out  Helmer's  characteristic  laugh  with  its  golden 
ring  of  genuine  merriment,  and  Franka  was  filled 
with  a  sense  of  perfect  ease  and  enjoyment,  which 
was  doubly  agreeable  after  the  preceding  strain  of 
intellectual  excitement ;  at  the  same  time  she  realized 
that  her  confidence  in  her  brotherly  young  friend  was 
growing  stronger  —  only  a  good,  pure-minded  man 
laughs  like  that. 

After  ten  months  of  industrious  study,  Franka 
felt  prepared  to  begin  her  career.  She  had  also  ac 
cepted  Chlodwig's  advice  to  go  through  all  the  books 
of  which  he  had  furnished  a  list;  these  brought  her 
into  touch  with  the  history  and  present  condition  of 
all  the  great  questions  stirring  the  world,  and  she 
made  him  explain  to  her  his  standpoint  in  these 
matters. 

The  result  of  this  period  of  study  was  not  merely 
that  she  proved  to  be  a  good  pupil  who  had  passed 
through  her  course  creditably  and  was  capable  of 
understanding  and  correctly  rendering  the  ideas  of 
other  people ;  but  during  this  period  of  preparation  a 
thousand  original  thoughts  had  arisen  in  her  mind 
and  the  material  she  had  stored  up  put  out  further 
blossoms ;  views,  convictions,  aspirations  were  gath 
ered,  which  grew  so  imperious  that  she  felt  inspired, 
nay,  compelled,  to  share  them  with  others,  to  com- 

129 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

pel  others  to  adopt  them.  What  lay  before  her  —  at 
least,  so  it  seemed  to  her  proud  consciousness — was 
more  than  a  great  duty  —  it  was  a  mission. 

"A  Word  to  Young  Girls"  was  the  title  of  her 
first  lecture,  and  this  title  was  to  be  seen  in  gigantic 
letters  on  placards  posted  in  every  nook  and  corner 
of  Vienna.  Above  it  was  printed:  "Great  Music- 
Union  Hall,  Sunday,  January  15.  Seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  Admission  free."  And  below  it: 
"Speaker:  Franka  Garlett." 

The  sensation  in  Vienna  society  was  immense.  .  . . 
What!  that  pretty  Fraulein  Garlett,  Vienna's  richest 
heiress,  she  who  had  refused  so  many  offers  of  mar 
riage,  who  had  been  so  generous  in  her  charities,  who 
had  gathered  about  her  so  many  of  the  distinguished 
men  of  the  city,  who  had  won  universal  admiration 
for  her  charm  of  manner,  her  simplicity  and  her 
loveliness  —  was  she  coming  out  as  a  public  speaker? 
On  what  subject?  Why?  People  cudgeled  their 
brains,  and  were  somewhat  scandalized  at  such  a 
thing!  The  idea  was  certainly  quixotic!  Was  there 
no  one  in  the  noble  family  of  Sielen  to  put  a  stop  to 
such  an  absurdity?  And  what  was  she  going  to  say 
to  the  young  girls?  Possibly  preach  emancipation? 
Advocate  a  doctor's  career?  Equal  suffrage?  —  or 
perhaps  —  free  love !  Certainly  these  things  did  not 
agree  at  all  with  her  whole  personality.  But  one 
must  be  ready  to  expect  anything  from  a  person  who 
suddenly  comes  out  on  the  platform  —  no  one  would 
ever  have  thought  her  capable  of  that! 

The  public  came  in  crowds.  Helmer  had  seen  to  it 
that  the  lecture  was  well  advertised  in  the  newspa- 

130 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

pers,  and  the  fact  that  it  came  on  a  Sunday,  and  was 
free,  assured  a  large  audience.  The  first  two  rows 
and  a  few  boxes  were  reserved  for  invited  guests. 

Long  before  the  stated  hour,  the  hall  was  packed 
to  overflowing  and  the  entrances  had  to  be  closed. 
Franka  was  waiting  in  the  artists'  room  for  the  signal 
to  begin.  Frau  Eleonore,  Dr.  Fixstern,  and  Helmer 
were  in  attendance  on  her.  Her  cheeks  were  pale, 
for  the  terrible  phantom  which  so  delights  in  haunt 
ing  artists'  rooms  and  the  scenes  of  theaters,  —  a 
cousin  of  it  is  often  found  in  the  waiting-room  of 
dentists, —  stage-fright,  le  trac,  "footlight-fever,"  or 
whatever  the  thing  is  called,  had  seized  her  throat. 
The  others  tried  to  encourage  her  —  a  perfectly  use 
less  attempt,  which  brings  forth  a  still  broader  grin 
on  the  face  of  the  phantom.  Now,  really,  it  was  no 
little  thing  to  step  out  for  the  first  time  in  one's 
life  and  deliver  a  lecture  before  so  many  thousand 
people ! 

"O  my  dear  friends,  I  am  frightened  at  the  mere 
idea  of  standing  on  the  platform  so  alone  with  the 
abyss  before  me!" 

"Think  of  'soaring,'"  said  Chlodwig;  "think  of 
Bldriot,  who  also  was  alone  —  high  up  between 
heaven  and  the  sea,  apparently  motionless,  lost  in 
the  universe." 

"And  do  you  believe  that  I  should  not  be  panic- 
stricken  up  there?  Oh,  if  I  could  only  be  in  my  room 
—  if  I  were  not  obliged  to  go  out  before  all  those 
strangers,  perhaps  hostile  to  me  .  .  ." 

"But,  Franka,  I  don't  know  you,"  said  Frau 
Eleonore  reproachfully.  "I  thought  you  were  a 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

heroine.  It  was  certainly  not  necessary  for  you  to  do 
all  this  .  .  ." 

Some  one  came  in  and  announced:  "It  is  time, 
Fraulein.  .  .  .  The  house  is  full.  .  .  .  The  audience  is 
growing  impatient." 

A  murmur  of  admiration  went  through  the  hall  as 
Franka  went  forward  and  took  her  place  at  the  front 
of  the  stage.  They  were  not  prepared  to  see  such  a 
maidenly  poetic  apparition.  She  wore  a  very  simple 
white  frock  with  long,  open  sleeves.  Her  arms  and 
hands  were  bare,  without  gloves,  without  bracelets, 
without  rings ;  they  were  white  and  perfectly  sculp 
turesque  in  form.  Her  luxuriant  hair  was  artlessly 
arranged  around  the  small  head.  A  bouquet  of 
violets  adorned  her  bodice.  She  had  no  manuscript 
in  her  hand;  nothing  but  a  small  ivory  fan.  Thus 
she  stood  there  for  a  moment.  Her  friends  had 
applauded  as  she  entered,  and  now  the  others  were 
clapping  their  hands  so  as  to  inspire  the  pale  girl  with 
confidence.  She  extended  her  arms  toward  the  hall 
as  if  commanding  silence  and  advanced  one  more 
step.  The  tumult  ceased.  Then  she  began  in  a  clear, 
firm,  distinct  voice:  — 

"Dear  sisters  .  .  .  for,  although  I  see  many  men 
in  the  hall,  my  message  is  to  women  only,  particu 
larly  to  young  girls  ..." 

The  sound  of  her  own  voice  reassured  her.  Under 
the  tuition  of  an  eminent  professor  her  melodious 
alto,  capable  of  rich  modulations,  had  been  happily 
trained  and  strengthened  so  that  her  clearly  articu 
lated  words  were  borne  to  the  farthest  corners  of  the 
hall. 

132 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  spoke  for  nearly  two  hours ;  at  first  very  slowly 
and  calmly,  but  gradually,  as  she  grew  more  ani 
mated,  her  pale  cheeks  took  on  color,  her  eyes 
shone,  and  her  voice  intensified  to  a  passionate 
power.  It  was  soon  evident  that  she  was  in  touch 
with  her  audience,  and  repeatedly  there  was  a  mur 
mur  of  approbation;  occasionally,  outbursts  of  ap 
plause  showed  the  effect  of  her  words.  This  made  her 
feel  as  if  she  were  borne  aloft,  and  it  happened  that 
many  times,  as  if  under  inspiration,  she  used  sen 
tences  and  turns  of  speech  which  she  had  not  thought 
of  during  the  preparation  of  her  lecture,  and  these 
very  improvisations  still  further  strengthened  the 
magnetic  relationship  between  speaker  and  audi 
ence. 

The  gist  of  her  address  had  been  expressed  in  her 
introduction:  "You  all  know  the  beautiful  expres 
sion  of  Goethe's  Antigone : '  Not  here  for  mutual  hate, 
but  mutual  love  are  we.'  But,  my  sisters,  the  mod 
ern  time  enforces  upon  us  a  second  commandment: 
'For  mutual  thinking  are  we  here." 

And  then  she  went  on  to  show  what  are  the  duties 
of  this  latest  age,  —  the  age  of  flying,  —  and  she 
further  showed  how  in  the  accomplishment  of  these 
duties  both  halves  of  the  human  race  must  cooper 
ate;  how  it  behooved  a  woman  not  only  to  win  for 
herself  the  mastery  of  various  professions,  of  various 
offices  which  have  hitherto  been  exclusively  pre 
empted  by  men,  but  also  to  realize  that  she  must 
no  longer  remain  voluntarily  aloof  whenever  the 
highest  interests  of  the  community  are  in  question. 
Place  and  voice  in  the  direction  of  public  affairs? 

133 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

That  certainly  is  already  on  the  programme  of  the 
Woman  Movement,  but  the  most  important  thing  is 
a  knowledge  and  understanding  of  the  universal  laws 
that  govern  nature  and  the  world ;  then  only  can  she 
judge  and  cooperate  where  social  arrangements  are 
to  be  decided.  To  take  a  hand  in  the  transformation 
of  these  arrangements,  to  become  themselves  law 
givers:  that  is  a  goal  the  attainment  of  which  may 
stand  for  the  future ;  but  even  before  having  attained 
this  positive  power,  women,  and  maidens  too,  may 
work  through  their  influence.  But  how  shall  they 
bring  their  views  and  their  feelings  to  effectiveness  if 
they  stay  in  voluntary  ignorance  of  all  those  things 
that  regulate  the  conduct  of  social,  political,  and 
economic  life?  If  in  the  most  important  questions  on 
which  depend  welfare  or  misery,  war  or  peace,  they 
are  to  have  no  voice  because  they  always  allow  them 
selves  to  be  told:  "You  don't  understand  anything 
about  that!"  They  must  acquire  for  themselves  a 
conception  of  the  universe.  First,  they  must  under 
stand;  then  they  must  share  in  councils;  then  at 
last  they  can  cooperate.  .  .  .  Indeed,  they  must  un 
derstand  as  well  as  the  men ;  then  they  will  perhaps 
do  better  work  than  men,  because  they  will  not 
forget  that  they  are  there  to  share  in  love,  that  it  is 
their  task  to  make  goodness  —  this  highest  of  femi 
nine  virtues — prevail  in  all  situations  and  all  actions. 
"There  is  no  reason  why  the  flame  on  the  home 
altar  should  die  down  because  we  succeed  in  casting 
its  reflection  on  political  life.  Are  really  mildness  and 
gentleness,  capacity  for  sympathy  in  sorrow  and  joy 
purely  feminine  characteristics?  No,  they  belong  to 

134 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

men  as  well.  Are  power  and  tenacity  of  purpose  and 
resoluteness  and  courage  purely  masculine  virtues? 
No;  they  belong  to  women  as  well.  And  the  perfect 
human  race  of  both  sexes,  when  once  they  are  to 
direct  social  life  side  by  side,  must  apply  thereto  the 
collective  treasure  of  all  their  qualities." 

Franka  did  not  confine  herself  to  such  abstract 
discussions  throughout  her  lecture.  She  elucidated 
in  clear,  simple  words  the  conditions  actually  pre 
vailing;  she  described  the  promising  as  well  as  the 
threatening  prospects  of  the  future  as  conditioned 
by  the  new  discoveries,  and  she  pointed  out  the 
practical  ways  which  young  women  of  the  present 
day  had  to  enter  upon  if  they  were  to  share  in  the 
humanization  —  nay,  rather,  the  deification  of  the 
humanity  of  the  morrow. 

The  most  concrete  and  practical  announcement 
which  she  made  was  that  she  had  established  out  of 
her  own  means  a  private  free  course  of  instruction 
for  mature  young  women.  The  lectures  were  not  to 
be  given  by  her,  but  by  university  professors,  —  and 
she  named  certain  distinguished  persons,  —  who 
twice  a  week  during  the  next  four  months  would 
give  lectures  in  a  large  hall  engaged  by  her  for  this 
purpose.  The  following  subjects  were  on  the  pro 
gramme:  Social  science,  philosophy,  the  doctrine  of 
evolution,  the  history  and  prospects  of  contempo 
raneous  movements,  and,  finally,  ethics  and  aes 
thetics.  These  two  last  were  included,  because  the 
realm  of  "scientific  truth  should  always  be  pene 
trated  by  the  light  of  morality  and  beauty.  All  these 
courses  of  study  would  be  given  without  pedantic 

135 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

insistence  upon  details,  but  would  be  presented  in 
synthetic  method ;  and  all  of  them,  if  they  were  ab 
sorbed  into  the  mind  of  the  students,  would  further 
more  produce  that  broader  synthesis  which  deserves 
the  name  of  "world.-conception,"  that  is,  the  vision 
of  the  world,  according  to  what  we  actually  know  it 
is  at  present  and  as  it  presumably  will  be  in  the 
future,  in  the  line  of  ceaseless  evolution.  When  she 
had  spoken  the  peroration  in  a  tone  of  ardent  enthu 
siasm  and  with  an  expression  of  prophetic  inspira 
tion  on  her  youthful  features,  there  was  at  first  a 
moment  of  breathless  silence  and  then  a  burst  of 
thunderous  applause.  She  bowed  modestly  and  left 
the  stage. 

In  the  artists'  room  she  sank  exhausted  on  a  sofa. 
Her  three  friends  surrounded  her:  —  "It  was  mar- 
velously  beautiful!"  —  "Bravo,  Franka !"  — Hel- 
mer  kissed  her  hand:  "Heroine,"  he  said  in  a 
whisper. 

In  the  hall  the  applause  would  not  cease. 

"They  are  calling  for  you,"  said  Dr.  Fixstern. 
"The  audience  wants  to  see  you  again." 

Franka  shook  her  head.  "No,  I  will  not  go  out 
again  —  I  am  not  a  prima  donna! " 

"But  just  hear,  how  they  are  clapping,  how  they 
are  calling  for  you." 

"I  beg  of  you,  dear  Doctor,  go  out  and  tell  them 
that  I  have  already  left  the  hall." 

Dr.  Fixstern  did  as  she  ordered. 

"Are  you  very  tired,  Franka?"  asked  Frau  Eleo- 
nore.  ' '  How  do  you  feel  ? ' ' 

"How  do  I  feel?  Happy!" 
136 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

This  was  the  beginning  of  Franka's  career,  and 
now  followed  a  series  of  triumphs.  The  newspapers 
published  long  extracts  from  her  addresses  and  en 
thusiastic  criticisms  of  her  skill  in  the  art  of  elocu 
tion.  A  few  days  after  her  d6but  she  gave  her  second 
lecture,  which  again  packed  the  great  Music  Hall  to 
the  last  seat;  then  she  spoke  in  the  Workingmen's 
Home,  and  here  she  kindled  even  more  enthusiasm 
than  before.  Among  the  young  women  of  Vienna 
there  sprang  up  a  regular  Franka  cult,  her  adherents 
called  themselves  "  Frankistinnen  " ;  as  their  badge 
they  wore  a  violet  pin.  There  was  in  all  the  book 
shops  a  special  display  of  her  portraits.  In  the  toy 
shops  Franka  dolls  were  put  on  sale  and  were  eagerly 
bought.  The  comic  papers  published  caricatures  of 
her.  Karl  Kraus  made  a  feature  of  her  in  a  Garlett 
number  of  "Die  Fackel."  Herds  of  autograph 
hyenas  came  down  upon  her.  An  impresario  offered 
her  an  engagement  for  America.  The  gramophone 
companies  made  her  an  offer  to  have  her  represented 
on  a  record.  A  fashionable  tailor  introduced  the 
long,  open  Garlett  sleeves.  The  pupils  who  at 
tended  the  courses  of  instruction  which  Franka  had 
established  were  designated  by  the  nickname  of  the 
"Garlett  girls."  And,  worse  than  all,  vaudeville 
theaters  enriched  their  repertoires  of  topical  songs 
with  a  Garlett  stanza. 

Franka  shuddered  under  this  tidal  wave  of  popu 
larity  ;  it  was  almost  mortifying  to  her.  She  had  un 
dertaken  her  work  as  a  kind  of  vestal  mission,  and 
now  it  was  accompanied  by  such  noisy  publicity. 
But  like  all  sudden  and  exaggerated  excitement,  this 

137 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

also  gradually  subsided;  yet  the  quiet  and  earnest 
effect  continued  and  increased.  She  soon  recovered, 
in  the  estimation  of  all,  her  standing  as  a  powerful 
advocate  and  woman  of  irreproachable  character. 
The  Sielen  relatives,  to  be  sure,  turned  their  backs 
on  her.  Adele  and  Albertine  and  their  whole  set 
completely  vanished.  It  was  not  a  severe  blow  to 
her. 

After  a  few  weeks  she  went  on  a  lecture  tournee  to 
all  the  principal  cities  of  Germany.  She  was  accom 
panied  only  by  Frau  von  Rockhaus  and  a  maid.  A 
business  manager  preceded  her,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  engage  for  her  lecture-halls  and  suitable  quarters 
in  the  hotels.  Everywhere  she  went,  she  was  re 
ceived  not  only  in  her  public  capacity  as  a  speaker, 
but  also  with  special  honors  by  society  as  a  lady.  In 
the  course  of  time  her  journeys  extended  beyond 
Germany,  first  to  the  Scandinavian  countries,  then 
to  London  and  Paris.  And  after  a  few  years  her 
fame  was  world-wide. 


CHAPTER  X 

AT  LUCERNE 

THE  clock  of  Eternity  has  moved  forward  a  few 
seconds ;  we  are  writing  191-.  The  twentieth  century 
is  still  "in  its  teens,"  but  1920  is  not  far  away.  The 
impatient,  the  impetuous,  those  who  a  few  years  ago 
were  shouting,  full  of  anxiety  or  full  of  hope,  "  Now, 
now,  everything  is  going  to  change  —  a  new  era  has 
dawned  —  mighty  revolutions  are  before  us,"  —  all 
these  have  to  confess  that  the  face  of  the  world,  on 
the  whole,  has  not  been  very  much  altered,  and  that 
the  actual  transformations,  by  reason  of  their  grad 
ual  development,  have  been  almost  unnoticeable. 
Terrible  catastrophes  like  the  sudden  destruction 
of  cities  by  earthquakes,  thrones  overturned  by 
revolutions,  rulers  assassinated  by  the  throwing  of 
bombs,  colonial  and  other  wars  —  such  things  may 
have  devastated  for  a  brief  period  the  little  strips 
of  land  affected  and  aroused  a  general  sensation,  but 
soon  everything  became  calm  again.  This  applies 
not  only  to  the  great  disasters,  but  also  to  great  and 
unexpected  good  fortune  such  as  the  announcement 
of  marvelous  discoveries  or  world-redeeming  ideas: 
—  such  things  startle  men  for  a  moment  out  of  their 
apathy,  and  awaken  the  wildest  hopes;  but  then  they 
quickly  flatten  out  and  become  commonplace,  dis 
appear  from  the  surface,  and  must  pass  through  the 
stages  of  gradual  development,  until  they  succeed  in 

139 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

changing  the  face  of  the  world.  So  many  a  fountain 
springs  foaming'from  the  rocks,  but  only  when  it  has, 
after  a  long  course,  united  with  a  thousand  other 
trickling  rivulets,  does  it  become  a  river. 

The  hotels  at  Lucerne  were  filled  to  overflowing. 
It  was  once  more  time  for  the  "Toker  Rose- Week" 
to  begin.  From  year  to  year  the  "  Rose  Pilgrims,"  as 
they  called  themselves,  had  been  streaming  thither 
in  greater  and  greater  numbers.  It  had  become  the 
fashion  to  spend  seven  days  in  Lucerne.  Many  came 
not  for  the  purpose  of  absorbing  the  lofty  intellectual 
enjoyments  there  offered,  but  in  order  to  be  seen.  As 
the  hotels  and  private  boarding-houses  of  the  city 
were  no  longer  sufficient  to  harbor  all  the  stran 
gers,  some  automobile-owners  had  conceived  the 
idea  of  spending  the  nights  in  their  machines,  — 
for  very  abundant  were  the  cars  that  were  provided 
with  conveniences  for  sleeping  and  toilet,  —  and  a 
vast  automobile-park  covered  the  fields  around  the 
city. 

During  the  first  years  Mr.  Toker  had  been  satis 
fied  to  lodge  his  guests  in  a  hotel  engaged  for  the  pur 
pose,  and  all  the  exercises  took  place  in  its  public 
rooms.  But  now,  the  edifices  and  gardens  which 
he  had  planned  were  ready,  and  in  their  fairyland 
beauty  they  had  won  the  reputation  of  being  one  of 
the  sights  of  Europe.  The  list  of  invitations  which 
Mr.  Toker  sent  out  in  191-  was  very  differently  con 
stituted  from  that  which  he  had  written  down  in  his 
first  prospectus.  For  many  of  those  who  then  bore 
brilliant  names  in  the  firmament  of  fame  had  been 

140 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

extinguished,  and  new  stars  had  flamed  into  sight. 
The  aged  die  —  room  for  the  young ! 

It  was  the  first  day  of  the  first  week.  Mr.  Toker 
was  as  yet  alone,  and  was  awaiting  the  arrival  of  his 
illustrious  guests.  His  friendly  old  face  was  radiant. 
He  was  satisfied  with  his  work.  Success  had  at 
tended  it.  The  way  the  concentrated  forces  had 
acted  was  astonishing  and  their  effect  was  con 
stantly  increasing.  As  if  unified  in  a  central  sun,  the 
flames  of  genius  scattered  over  the  earth  were  now 
blazing  in  his  Rose-Temple,  and  spread  from  there, 
as  by  a  mighty  reflector,  all  over  the  earth,  pene 
trating  all  corners  where  their  light  had  never  before 
shone. 

From  many  indications,  Toker  was  aware  that  the 
level  of  Public  Spirit  had  been  elevated  by  the  influ 
ence  that  emanated  from  the  Rose-Temple.  Watch- 
/vvords,  winged  phrases  which  had  flown  forth  from 
there,  were  circulated  in  newspapers  and  were  quoted 
in  parliaments;  the  year-books,  containing  extracts 
from  the  discourses  delivered,  were  to  be  found  in 
the  libraries  of  universities,  and  were  widely  used  as 
manuals  for  the  instruction  of  the  young ;  the  wide 
international  public  listened  to  the  addresses  of  these 
great  ones  of  the  earth  and  accepted  many  of  their 
lofty  thoughts  and  involuntarily  introduced  them 
into  social  conversations;  so  that  when  Mr.  Toker 
jestingly  said ,  ' '  This  is  my  world-ennobling  factory, ' ' 
he  did  not  claim  too  much. 

Certainly,  not  all  the  dreams  that  John  A.  Toker 
had  conceived  when  he  made  his  plan  had  been  ful 
filled.  What  had  given  him  the  impulse  to  take  up 

141 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  work  had  been  his  indignation  that  the  splendid 
invention  of  a  dirigible  airship  had  been  greeted  as 
a  useful  weapon  for  future  wars.  No !  against  such  a 
notion,  against  such  possibilities,  —  a  rain  of  anni 
hilation  from  the  sky,  —  must  a  mighty  storm  of 
protest  be  raised;  he  had  called  these  great  minds 
together  for  this  purpose. 

On  the  very  first  week  of  the  Rose-Festival,  this 
theme  was  printed  on  the  programmes  and  flaming 
anathemas  against  the  barbarization  of  the  air  went 
forth  into  the  world,  combined  with  the  demand 
to  put  an  end  to  war  itself.  But  no  palpable  result 
followed  —  the  war  ministries  continued  to  install 
their  fleets  of  airships,  and  the  construction  of 
fortifications  and  dreadnoughts  went  on  without 
interruption,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  these  instru 
ments  of  war  would  be  superfluous  and  useless  if  once 
they  were  exposed  to  the  rain  of  explosives. 

But  John  A.  Toker  had  faith.  Not  in  one  year, 
and  not  in  two  or  three,  could  such  a  mighty  work 
be  accomplished  —  certainly,  dirigible  flights  to 
spiritual  and  moral  altitudes  were  not  easier  of 
attainment  than  those  in  the  physical  atmosphere. 

"Well,  papa,  has  not  a  single  specimen  of  your 
great  menagerie  arrived  yet?"  Toker's  only  daugh 
ter,  Gwendoline,  a  girl  of  eighteen,  overflowing  with 
life,  came  and  laid  her  hand  on  her  father's  shoulder 
and  laughingly  put  this  question.  And  when  she 
laughed  a  whole  scherzo  of  dazzling  teeth,  sparkling 
eyes,  and  mischievous  dimples  was  playing  over  her 
piquant  little  face.  "Are  you  expecting  wholly 
exotic  birds  this  year?"  she  added. 

142 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Oh,  Gwen,  how  can  you  be  so  lacking  in  rever 
ence?" 

Her  features  suddenly  assumed  the  expression 
which  she  herself  called  her  "Sunday  singing-book 
face." 

"Oh,  papa,  I  am  penetrated  with  awesome  rev 
erence!  Only  to  think  of  all  these  laurel-crowned 
moonshine  occiputs,  trumpeted  together  from  every 
corner  of  the  globe,  makes  me  shiver  with  respect! 
And  is  it  not  true  that  this  year  a  'Jap'  is  coming?" 

•"A  Japanese,  yes,  daughter.  You  know  I  do  not 
permit  abbreviations  for  whole  nations.  Or  do 
you  like  it  when  your  father  is  spoken  of  as  the 
'Yankee'?" 

"  Dear  me,  and  what  do  you  say  when  your  daugh 
ter  is  called  a  'Gibson  Girl,'  or  the  'Dollar  Prin 
cess'?  .  .  .  Oh,  look!  there  is  one  flying  now  and 
there  is  another.  And  there,  away  down  on  the 
horizon,  —  is  not  that  an  airship?" 

The  balcony  on  which  father  and  daughter  were 
standing  commanded  a  wide  outlook  over  land  and 
lake.  The  edifices  which  Mr.  Toker  had  caused  to  be 
erected  were  situated  only  a  short  distance  from  the 
shore.  The  narrow  strip  of  land  between  the  water 
and  the  buildings  seemed  to  be  covered  with  a  pale- 
red  giant  carpet  —  the  whole  piece  was  one  single 
bed  of  roses.  The  lake  glittered  in  the  sunshine  and 
innumerable  sailboats  and  other  craft  were  moving 
on  its  surface.  On  the  distant  horizon  snow-crowned 
mountain  peaks,  and  above  all  a  cloudless  sky, 
against  the  brilliant  blue  of  which  were  hovering 
several  dark  dragon-flies  —  the  air-motors  now  no 

H3 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

longer  objects  of  wonder:  no  longer  objects  of 
wonder,  but  nevertheless  overpoweringly  wonder 
ful.  Always,  when  at  a  greater  or  less  distance  such 
an  equipage  was  seen,  men  exclaimed  just  as  Gwen 
doline  did:  "See,  an  aeroplane,  and  there's  another, 
and  yonder  is  an  airship!" 

Mr.  Toker  raised  his  head  and  shaded  his  eyes:  — 
"Yes,  my  daughter,  I  see  and  rejoice!  How  high 
they  fly!  Oh,  but  man  will  no  longer  soar  to  the 
heights  with  impunity  ..." 

"'With  impunity'?  ...  I  don't  understand  .  .  ." 

"No,  you  do  not  understand.  You  do  not  know, 
as  yet,  why  we  are  here.  I  have  not  informed  you 
what  the  object  is  which  I  am  aiming  at  in  my  Rose- 
Week.  Perhaps  I  will  tell  you  some  other  time  — 
you  have  seemed  to  me  still  too  young,  too  childish. 
You  are  such  a  child  still,  Gwen,  —  lucky  girl!" 

"When  may  I  learn  to  fly,  papa?  When  may  I 
have  my  little  airship?" 

"Do  you  see  —  even  that  you  would  regard  as  a 
toy!" 

Three  days  later  Toker's  guests  were  all  assem 
bled  in  the  Rose-Palace  at  Lucerne.  Not  quite  all, 
indeed,  whom  he  had  invited  had  responded  to  his 
invitation;  still,  only  a  few  stars  from  the  firma 
ment  of  living  celebrities  had  failed  him.  If  it  was  a 
great  privilege  for  the  public  to  see  gathered  together 
in  one  spot  such  a  multitude  of  famous  men  and 
women,  and  to  hear  them,  it  was  for  these  guests 
themselves  a  still  greater  pleasure  to  meet  their 
brethren  and  sisters  of  genius  under  one  roof. 

144 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Especially  did  the  week  that  preceded  the  formal 
exercises  offer  the  most  delightful  opportunity  for 
quiet,  intimate  intercourse  among  those  who  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  coming  for  several  years.  Many 
close  friendships  had  already  been  formed.  No  one 
who  had  once  been  a  guest  at  the  Rose- Palace,  how 
ever  abounding  in  thoughts  and  experiences  in  his 
own  right,  departed  from  the  place  without  having 
been  enriched  in  many  respects,  without  having 
gained  a  general  deepening  of  knowledge  and  a 
broadening  of  the  mental  horizon.  All  kept  through 
out  the  year  a  delightful  memory  of  the  Rose-Days; 
an  invitation  to  be  present  was  a  lofty  object  of  am 
bition  to  those  who  had  not  as  yet  been  guests  there. 
John  A.  Toker  felt  his  heart  swell  with  the  most 
joyful  pride  as  he  joined  the  circle  of  his  guests.  Was 
it  not  the  most  noble  assembly  of  kingly  personages 
that  the  world  possessed?  At  brilliant  court  festivi 
ties  there  might,  indeed,  be  as  many  Excellencies, 
Highnesses,  and  Majesties  gathered  together,  but 
the  majority  of  these  title-bearers  would  have  sunk 
into  oblivion  in  the  next  generation,  while  the  names 
and  works  of  the  majority  of  Toker's  Rose-Court 
would  be  handed  down  to  coming  centuries. 

In  the  hall  of  one  of  the  first-class  hotels  at 
Lucerne  at  tea-time,  chattering  groups  are  scattered 
about  in  various  corners  and  window-embrasures, 
separated  from  one  another  by  potted  plants  and  by 
pillars  and  screens  which  divide  the  immense  room 
with  its  niches  and  bay-windows  into  practically 
small  private  parlors.  The  sofas  and  wide  armchairs 

145 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

of  light-green  straw  are  decked  with  cushions  covered 
with  pale  flowered  silk  and  stuffed  with  eiderdown. 

The  larger  and  smaller  groups  and  the  solitary 
persons  sitting  here  and  there,  drinking  tea,  had 
evidently  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Al 
though  a  certain  international  uniformity  causes 
people  to  be  differentiated  rather  by  the  classes  to 
which  they  belong  than  by  their  nationalities,  still 
there  are  certain  indications  by  which  one  can  tell 
with  some  certainty  by  the  external  appearance 
whether  the  persons  met  with  are  English  or  French, 
Germans  or  Americans,  Slavs  or  Italians.  In  this 
great  hall  you  could  also  see  some  specimens  of 
quite  exotic  nationalities,  for  several  Japanese  and 
an  East  Indian  Rajah  were  present. 

Two  men,  sitting  at  a  small  table  on  which  the 
waiter  had  just  set  a  service  of  various  liqueurs, 
were  amusing  themselves  in  guessing  what  coun 
try  this  or  that  person,  seated  near  them  or  passing 
by,  came  from. 

"See,  that  family  with  the  three  tall  daughters, 
the  haughty  mother,  and  the  papa  reading  the  news 
paper,  is  certainly  English." 

"That  was  not  difficult  to  detect  since  that  gigan 
tic  newspaper  is  the  'Times." 

"That  pretty  little  lady  there,  decked  with  tassels 
and  ribbons,  and  at  the  same  time  flirting  with  the 
three  men  talking  with  her  so  vivaciously,  must  be 
a  Parisian." 

"And  that  rather  stout  beauty  over  there,  with 
the  suspicion  of  a  mustache  and  a  superfluity  of 
jewels,  is  probably  from  some  Balkan  State." 

146 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"And  that  comfortable-looking,  honest  couple,  so 
old-fashioned  in  their  dress,  with  their  silver  wed 
ding  celebrated  long  ago,  and  who  make  it  very  evi 
dent  that  they  are  unhappy  because  they  do  not 
have  two  jugs  of  beer  in  front  of  them,  instead  of  that 
insipid  tea,  evidently  come  from  some  little  German 
city." 

"And  that  group  by  the  window,  —  very  elegant, 
but  nothing  conspicuous  about  them,  —  it  would 
be  rather  difficult  to  tell  what  country  they  come 
from.  National  characteristics  betray  themselves 
generally  by  something  like  caricatures  —  normal 
men  of  the  cultivated  classes,  with  their  air  of  assur 
ance,  with  their  correct  dress,  might  come  from 
anywhere;  you  can  tell  what  society  they  belong 
to,  —  that  is,  good  society, — but  not  from  what 
country." 

A  young  man  dressed  entirely  in  white,  remark 
ably  slender  and  tall,  was  just  crossing  the  room  on 
his  way  to  the  street  door.  Half  a  step  behind  him 
marched  respectfully  an  elderly  gentleman  of  mili 
tary  bearing,  but  in  dark  civilian  dress. 

"Who  can  that  young  man  be?  Nice-looking  fel 
low!  I  should  take  him  for  an  American." 

"That  would  be  a  mistake.  It  happens  that  I  can 
tell  you  about  him.  That  is  Prince  Victor  Adolph, 
the  fourth  son  of  a  German  monarch.  I  also  know 
that  he  is  not  the  ordinary  kind;  he  is  democratic, 
not  to  say  socialistic,  in  his  tendencies;  an  enemy 
to  court  etiquette  and  against  everything  military. 
For  that  reason,  apparently,  he  is  compelled  to  have 
the  old  general  with  him  as  a  traveling  companion. 

147 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

That  he  is  American  in  his  appearance  is  perhaps 
due  to  the  fact  that  he  spent  a  term  studying  at 
Harvard  University." 

The  two  gentlemen  engaged  in  this  conversation 
were  from  Vienna.  They  had  become  acquaintances 
in  the  railway  coup6  while  coming  to  Lucerne.  This 
method  of  travel  was  still  in  use,  although  an  or 
ganized  passenger  service  by  airship  had  already 
been  established;  just  as  at  the  end  of  the  thirties 
in  the  nineteenth  century,  after  the  opening  of  the 
first  railway  the  post-stage  still  ran  merrily  for  a 
time.  And  just  as  at  that  time  many  people  vowed 
that  they  would  never,  as  long  as  they  lived,  enter 
a  railway  train,  so  now  the  majority  of  people  swore 
that  no  money  in  the  world  would  tempt  them  to 
trust  their  precious  lives  to  the  mysterious  ocean  of 
air.  Besides,  a  new,  safety-assuring  power  had  come 
into  railway  service,  since  everywhere  was  installed 
the  rapid  and  inexpensive  and  comfortable  one-rail 
system. 

One  of  the  two  Viennese  was  Baron  Franz  B run- 
ing,  Chlodwig  Helmer's  boyhood  friend.  He  had  not 
greatly  changed;  his  full,  round  face  had  possibly 
grown  a  trifle  rounder,  his  black  mustache  a  little 
bushier.  In  his  civil  career  he  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  have  risen  to  the  rank  of  Hofrat. 

The  other,  a  personality  pretty  widely  known 
throughout  the  city,  was  named  Oscar  Regenburg. 
When  his  name  appeared  in  the  papers,  "Among 
those  present  was  noticed,"  it  read:  "Herr  Oscar 
Regenburg,  the  well-known  sportsman."  If  any  man 
who  has  money  and  goes  a  good  deal  into  society, 

148 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

yet  has  no  rank  among  the  nobility,  exercises  no 
calling,  is  not  active  in  any  business,  is  not  honored 
with  any  public  appointment,  but  as  a  compensation 
possesses  several  saddle-horses  and  an  automobile, 
then  —  since  every  man  must  have  some  kind  of 
title  —  he  is  called  a  "sportsman." 

Sport,  however,  was  not  the  goal  of  Oscar  Regen- 
burg's  ambition.  He  would  have  much  preferred  to 
bear  the  title  of  "art  connoisseur";  for  he  was  an 
assiduous  collector  of  paintings,  old  armor,  and  rare 
china.  His  spare  time  he  spent  in  visiting  art  col 
lections,  picture  auctions  and  galleries.  He  also 
evinced  great  interest  in  music  and  the  theater  — 
although  he  cultivated  the  stage  not  so  much  from 
before  the  curtain  as  behind  the  scenes,  especially 
in  the  form  of  pretty  operetta  singers.  Furthermore, 
he  was  an  amateur  traveler,  —  certainly  not  for  the 
purpose  of  enjoying  beautiful  scenery,  but  so  as 
to  be  present  wherever  expositions  or  horse-races 
or  aviation  meetings  or  festivals  of  any  kind  were 
taking  place.  Therefore,  he  could  not  fail  to  be,  for 
once  at  least,  a  visitor  at  the  Lucerne  Rose-Week. 

Genuine  deep  passions  were  not  at  the  bottom  of 
all  these  occupations ;  Regenburg  was  a  thoroughly 
apathetic  man,  mediocre  in  every  direction;  his 
whole  object  in  life  was  to  fill  up  his  superfluous  time 
and  spend  his  superfluous  money.  He  was  a  man  of 
thirty-five,  of  insignificant  external  appearance,  but 
he  always  took  pains  to  look  elegant  and  chic  by 
following  the  latest  fashion  in  dress,  in  behavior,  and 
in  the  use  of  slang.  As,  for  example,  the  fashion  had 
obtained  among  men,  to  sit  as  negligently  as  possible 

149 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

with  the  right  foot  on  the  left  knee,  moving  the 
point  of  the  shoe  up  and  down  and  at  the  same  time 
caressing  the  bright-colored  silk  stocking  visible 
almost  to  the  top;  there  was  no  one  who  let  his  toes 
play  with  more  vivacity  or  expression,  or  who  clasped 
his  own  thin  ankles  more  tenderly  than  he  did. 

The  two  men  continued  their  conversation. 

"  I  have  no  faith  in  these  democratic  poses  among 
the  sons  of  rulers,"  said  Bruning,  as  he  poured  him 
self  out  a  tiny  glass  of  benedictine. 

"As  far  as  I  have  observed,  you  take  the  attitude 
of  'I  have  no  faith  in  it'  toward  most  things." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  regard  it  as  a  reasonable 
and  useful  quality  to  be  a  skeptic.  When  a  man  has 
collected  some  little  experiences  in  life,  and  possesses 
some  little  knowledge  of  men,  and  has  attained 
some  insight  behind  the  scenes  of  the  various  social, 
political,  and  .  .  .  other  comedies  which  are  being 
played  on  the  world's  stage,  one  gets  along  best  by 
putting  on  the  armor  of  doubt.  Can  it  be  that  you 
are  an  idealist  nourished  on  illusions?" 

"I?  ...  Oh,  I  am  just  nothing  at  all  —  I  live  and 
let  live." 

"That 's  also  a  reasonable  point  of  view.  Well,  but 
I  am  curious  to  know  what  is  to  be  offered  in  the 
Rose- Booth  yonder.  It  is  interesting  to  see  all  the 
living  celebrities  trotted  out  by  the  great  dollar-ring 
master;  —  the  play  will  certainly  remind  me  of  Ha- 
genbeck,  who  makes  long-maned  lions  and  spitting 
tiger-cats  go  through  their  paces  in  unnatural  atti 
tudes.  What  is  still  more  comic  in  the  whole  show 
is  that  there  seems  to  be  a  civilizing  and  world- 
ISO 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

improving  aim  bound  up  with  it  —  as  if  this  world 
could  be  improved!  Man  remains  man,  and  when 
I  say  that,  I  do  not  say  anything  very  flattering. 
And,  above  all,  how  can  the  world  be  made  better 
by  a  few  self-conceited  people  making  speeches  be 
fore  a  few  other  frivolous  people?  The  only  effect 
that  addresses  have  on  me  is  to  make  me  sleepy.  I 
never  attend  them  on  principle." 

"What  did  you  come  here  for,  then?" 

"  Because  an  old  friend  of  mine  —  the  poet  Chlod- 
wig  Helmer  —  belongs  to  the  lion-tamer  Toker's 
gang  of  boarders.  I  get  from  this  friend  what  the 
whole  object  and  aim  of  the  circus  of  fame-crowned 
animals  amounts  to  .  .  ." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  Men  are  to  learn  to  fly  morally.  Do  you  under 
stand  that?" 

"Not  altogether." 


CHAPTER  XI 

AN  EVENING  IN  THE   ROSE-PALACE 

CHLODWIG  HELMER  had  attained  high  literary  rank 
during  these  years.  His  drama,  produced  in  the 
Volkstheater  at  Vienna,  won  great  applause,  and 
was  soon  added  to  the  repertory  of  every  playhouse 
in  the  country.  A  second  drama  —  in  verse  —  was 
granted  the  Schiller  Prize.  But  his  epic  poem 
"Schwingen"  —  "  Pinions"  —  obtained  the  most 
signal  success.  The  whole  campaign  of  the  conquest 
of  the  regions  of  the  air,  from  Icarus  to  Zeppelin  and 
Bleriot,  was  celebrated.  But,  further,  in  prophetic 
tone,  dipping  into  the  future,  —  and  this  part  of 
the  poem  was  by  far  the  greatest,  —  the  changes  were 
described  which  would  in  all  probability  take  place 
in  consequence  of  that  mightiest  among  the  achieve 
ments  of  human  genius.  Particularly  did  the  poet 
sing  those  flights  which,  like  a  corollary  to  physical 
soaring,  should  bear  aloft  into  more  luminous  regions 
the  human  intellect  and  the  ethical  aspiration  of 
man. 

The  epic  aroused  immense  enthusiasm.  Transla 
tions  into  French  and  English  were  made  and  the 
name  of  Helmer  became  famous  throughout  the 
world,  and  of  course  reached  the  attention  of  John  A. 
Toker,  who  forwarded  his  invitation  to  the  young 
poet.  He  did  it  with  all  the  more  enthusiasm,  be 
cause  he  had  discovered  in  "Schwingen"  the  very 

152 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

same  ideas  as  had  given  him  the  impulse  to  the 
inauguration  of  the  Rose- Week.  It  was  a  noteworthy 
coincidence  of  thought.  And  yet,  when  you  came  to 
think  of  it,  not  so  remarkable  after  all.  .  .  .  Thoughts 
which  were  afloat  in  an  age  are  produced  by  the  phe 
nomena  of  that  age,  and  they  are  precipitated  simul 
taneously  in  different  places  into  different  minds,  so 
that  it  frequently  happens  that  great  discoveries 
and  inventions  are  made  at  the  same  time  by  several 
discoverers  and  inventors,  quite  independently  of 
one  another. 

Still  another  young  celebrity  was  invited  by  Toker 
for  this  year's  Rose-Week  at  Lucerne:  this  was 
Franka  Garlett. 

On  the  evening  before  the  public  exercises  were 
to  take  place,  the  guests  of  the  Toker  Rose- Palace 
were  gathered  around  the  great  table.  When  the 
dessert  was  served,  the  master  of  the  house  tapped 
on  his  glass.  All  became  silent  and  listened :  — 

"My  dear  and  illustrious  guests!  The  beneficent 
custom  here  prevails  that  no  formal  toasts  are  ever 
presented.  All  the  eloquence  that  we  are  capable  of 
expending  must  be  reserved  for  the  public  campaign 
which  begins  to-morrow.  But  for  the  very  reason 
that  this  is  the  last  evening  which  we  are  to  have  to 
ourselves,  I  will  take  advantage  of  it,  in  order  to  tell 
you  something  which  I  have  on  my  mind." 

He  paused  for  a  moment.  All  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
him  with  eager  anticipation.  His  external  appear 
ance  made  a  sympathetic  and  confidence-inspiring 
picture:  absolutely  correct  in  his  evening-dress,  but 
at  the  same  time  quite  informal,  almost  negligent  in 

153 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

his  attitude.  His  short-cropped  hair  was  already 
perfectly  white,  but  his  cheeks  were  of  a  bright  rosy 
color,  and  a  joyous  expression  of  the  greatest  good 
nature  showed  itself  in  his  face.  In  a  somewhat  al 
tered  voice  he  went  on :  — 

"When  a  few  years  ago  I  saw  assembled  here  for 
the  first  time  this  wreath  of  chosen  men  and  women, 
—  alas !  some  of  the  blossoms  have  been  blighted  by 
the  frost  of  death,  but  others  have  come  to  take 
their  places,  for  such  is  the  way  of  the  world,  — 
when  for  the  first  time  I  had  conjured  before  me  so 
many  spirits  of  light,  I  believed  that  from  their  col 
lected  brilliancy  a  sudden  enlightenment  might  gush 
out  over  the  whole  earth.  That  was  an  illusion !  The 
thick  darkness  of  ignorance,  misery,  stupidity,  and 
wickedness,  in  which  our  world  is  still  densely  en 
veloped,  is  not  to  be  so  rapid  dispelled.  It  will 
take  much  further  endeavor  to  drive  it  away.  But 
that  the  efforts  which  have  gone  forth  from  this 
place  have  not  been  wholly  vain,  I,  and  assuredly 
you,  have  the  fullest  conviction.  What  especially 
pleases  me,  as  the  result  of  this  fortnight  in  the 
month  of  roses,  is  the  advancement,  the  enjoyment, 
the  edification  which  you  yourselves  have  all  found 
here  by  being  able  to  hold  familiar  intercourse  with 
people  of  your  own  stamp  from  the  domain  of  genius, 
by  mutually  giving  intellectual  stimulus  and  enrich 
ment  to  one  another,  by  the  consciousness  that  you, 
all  of  you,  whether  you  be  masters  in  this  art  or  that, 
whether  you  be  discoverers  in  this  science  or  that, 
whether  you  be  prophets  in  this  sphere  of  thought 
or  that  —  that  all  of  you,  I  say,  still  form  only  one 

154 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

communion:  —  that  of  the  elevators  of  human  life. 
And  a  loftier  life  is  to  stream  forth  from  here  and 
hasten  that  development  through  which  all  man 
kind  is  to  be  brought  up  to  a  higher  level.  Oh,  I 
know  right  well  what  the  doubters  will  reply : '  What 
is  carried  away  from  your  Rose-Parliament,  in  the 
columns  of  innumerable  newspapers,  pamphlets, 
and  gramophone  records,  is  merely  words,  words 
.  .  .  ideas  .  .  .  and  what  moves  society  are  deeds  and 
needs.  Not  by  reason,  but  by  the  passions,  that  is  to 
say,  by  violent  feelings,  are  the  masses  moved;  all 
your  beautiful  speeches  glitter  arid  burst  like  soap- 
bubbles.'  Of  course,  ideas  are  not  the  only  impelling 
forces ;  more  powerful  are  the  instincts.  It  is  always 
a  mistake  to  explain  the  complicated  movements 
of  the  world  and  of  society  by  the  working  of  one 
element,  of  one  force;  for  numberless  elements, 
numberless  forces,  are  always  in  activity.  And  to 
deny  the  force  of  thought  is  equivalent  to  ignoring 
the  half  of  the  universe,  which  consists  of  matter 
and  of  spirit." 

"Is  not  papa  a  dear  little  old  philosopher?" 
whispered  Gwendoline,  who  sat  at  the  other  end 
of  the  table,  to  her  neighbor,  a  famous  English 
novelist. 

"  Feelings  regulate  actions,"  continued  Mr.  Toker ; 
—  "granted;  but  frequently  feelings  are  ruled  by 
thoughts.  Ideas,  among  them  illusory  ideas,  are 
what  kindle  the  enthusiasm  of  the  masses,  and  are 
fought  for.  Forth  from  ideas  proceeds  that  sublime 
endeavor  which  is  called  the  ideal.  What  was  striven 
for  yesterday  is  the  attained  to-day,  and  gives  way 

155 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  new  endeavor,  to  new-born  ideas,  and   that  is 
equivalent  to  saying  to  new  ideals." 

"Now  he  has  said  enough,  don't  you  think  so?" 
murmured  Gwendoline  again.  "One  should  not  bore 
one's  guests." 

The  novelist  glanced  at  her  reprovingly:  "  It  does 
not  bore  me." 

"Thoughts  are  the  begetters  of  sensations;  above 
all,  they  are  the  foundations  of  knowledge.  There 
fore,  whoever  scatters  thoughts  into  the  world,  scat 
ters  seed  from  which  grow  all  those  fruits  that  we 
enjoy  under  the  name  of  culture.  There  is  much 
bitter  fruit  in  with  it,  because  still  many  unworthy 
thoughts  are  floating  about.  Progressive  humanity 
requires  high  thinking!  Soaring  thoughts.  .  .  . 

"This  year,  just  as  every  year,  a  volume  is  to  be 
published  which  will  contain  your  addresses:  I  pro 
pose  to  entitle  this  volume,  '  Menschliche  Hochge- 
danken'  —  'Thoughts  that  soar.'  The  beginning  of 
our  Rose-Weeks  coincided  with  the  conquest  of  the 
air.  You  know  that  the  impulse  of  your  joint  ac 
tion  was  given  to  me  by  the  flights  which  were  ac 
complished  by  the  first  'dirigible'  through  the  sea 
of  ether.  Now  it  is  for  us  to  bring  about  some  vic 
torious  records  by  our  flights  into  the  azure  realm 
of  the  ideal.  Thoughts  are  the  vehicle  for  this  — 
thoughts  which  soar  above  the  clouds  —  that  is  to 
say,  high  above  the  vapors  of  petty  private  interests, 
above  the  flats  of  national  contentions  —  in  a  word, 
thoughts  that  soar!  And  so  I  close  with  one  word, 
the  war-cry  which  must  be  the  war-cry  of  the  new, 
height-conquering  age:  the  cry,  'Upward!" 

156 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Upward!"  responded  the  whole  Table  Round. 

Thereupon  all  adjourned  into  the  adjoining  hall. 

An  illustrious  company,  indeed.  There  were  few 
young  people  among  them,  and  not  many  women. 
The  wreaths  of  unquestioned  glory  are  usually 
twined  around  masculine  heads,  and  there  mostly 
when  they  are  bare. 

The  youngest  of  the  thirty  Rose-Knights  was 
Chlodwig  Helmer;  the  youngest  among  the  six 
ladies  of  the  Roses  —  all  of  them  wearing  an  enam 
eled  rose  on  the  left  breast  —  was  Franka  Garlett. 

As  they  sat  or  stood,  they  divided  naturally  into 
various  groups.  Some  passed  through  the  open  doors 
to  the  terraces,  and  among  these  was  Franka  on 
Helmer's  arm. 

It  was  a  bright  moonlit  night  in  June;  the  air  was 
full  of  intoxicating  fragrance  rising  from  the  dense 
parterres  of  roses.  On  the  neighboring  lake  glided 
illuminated  boats,  and  even  up  in  the  air  could 
occasionally  be  seen  a  light  moving  swiftly  by  — 
probably  some  sentimental  aeronaut  on  an  evening 
flight.  Quite  unobtrusively  yet  distinctly  was  heard 
the  music  of  an  orchestra  playing  in  a  neighboring 
concert-hall. 

Franka  sat  down  in  a  rocking-chair  at  the  end  of 
the  terrace  and  Helmer  stood  by  her  side  leaning 
against  the  balustrade.  They  gazed  and  listened 
for  some  little  time  without  speaking.  Franka 
wrapped  a  trifle  closer  around  her  the  white  silken 
scarf  which  she  had  thrown  over  her  shoulders. 

"A  cool  breeze  blows  from  the  lake,"  she  re 
marked. 

157 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Shall  we  go  back  to  the  hall?" 

"Oh,  no,  it  is  fine  here.  Everything  is  so  beautiful, 
so  dreamy,  so  magical.  ...  Is  it  not  remarkable 
that  we  two  should  meet  here  as  colleagues  in  the 
Knighthood  of  the  Roses?  How  many  years  is  it 
since  we  first  met  in  grandfather's  chamber  at  the 
Sielenburg?  You  a  poor  secretary,  I  a  poor  orphan 
girl!  —  You  are  now  a  great  and  celebrated  poet!" 

"And  you  —  the  Garlett!  The  name  has  such  a 
distinction  that  nothing  more  needs  to  be  added 
to  it." 

"What  I  have  come  to  be,  Brother  Chlodwig,  I 
owe  to  you.  Had  it  not  been  for  those  letters  ..." 

"Well,  yes;  perhaps  everything  would  have  been 
different  —  perhaps  more  happily  for  you.  ...  I 
find  in  your  face  a  trace  of  seriousness,  sometimes 
of  sadness,  which  was  not  there  when  I  saw  you 
last." 

It  had  been  two  years  since  that  last  time.  Cir 
cumstances  had  frequently  separated  these  two 
friends.  Helmer  had  settled  in  Berlin,  where,  after 
the  successful  performances  of  his  drama,  he  had  ac 
cepted  a  position  as  a  subdirector  of  the  Royal  Thea 
ter.  Franka  had  frequently  been  absent  on  her  jour 
neys,  had  spent  one  whole  winter  in  southern  Italy 
for  a  complete  rest;  —  in  short,  there  had  always 
been  intervals  of  several  months,  and  finally  now 
two  years  had  elapsed  without  Franka  and  Helmer's 
having  met. 

But  their  correspondence  had  gone  on  without 
any  cessation.  They  had  remained  constantly  in 
communication  by  letter.  They  exchanged  full  con- 

158 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

fidences  in  regard  to  all  their  labors  and  plans ;  they 
shared  their  views  over  all  external  happenings ;  but 
they  never  actually  wrote  any  personal  confidences. 
His  poems  and  her  lectures  formed  the  chief  topics 
of  their  correspondence;  as  colleagues  they  had  be 
come  strongly  bound  together;  as  man  and  woman 
they  had  remained  rather  like  strangers,  although 
their  letters  had  always  preserved  that  soul-relation 
ship  of  brother  and  sister  with  which  their  corre 
spondence  had  begun.  It  was  for  both  a  great  and 
genuine  pleasure  to  be  invited  together  as  Mr.  John  A. 
Toker's  guests;  it  gave  to  the  festivities  of  this  week 
a  flavor  of  intimacy.  During  these  days  they  had  seen 
a  good  deal  of  each  other,  —  every  time  he  had  been 
her  seat-mate  at  table,  —  and  they  had  told  each 
other  all  that  was  worth  telling  of  their  lives  during 
the  past  two  years. 

"So  I  look  sad,  do  I?"  replied  Franka  to  Helmer's 
observation.  "And  yet  I  have  no  sorrow;  I  am  not 
unhappy." 

"That  is  only  a  negative  assurance  —  you  do  not 
say  that  you  feel  happy.  But  I  can  imagine  what 
you  lack  ..." 

"And  I  can  guess  what  you  imagine.  .  .  .  Well,  it 
is  true  that  in  the  life  that  I  am  leading  there  is 
more  or  less  renunciation ;  but  is  n't  that  necessary 
whenever  one  dedicates  one's  self  to  any  impersonal 
service?  How  is  it  when  a  maiden  devoted  to  piety 
takes  the  veil?" 

"  Fortunately  you  have  registered  no  vow,  Franka. 
You  can  always  ..." 

"Marry,  do  you  mean?  Let  us  talk  of  something 
159 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

else.  You  are  the  last  person  to  say  such  things  to 
me." 

"It  is  true,  I  myself  directed  you  to  the  path  of 
renunciation.  As  long  as  your  task  completely  occu 
pied  you  —  but  does  it  still?" 

"  Do  not  ask  me  such  confessional  questions.  The 
task  is  great  enough  to  fill  any  life;  but  I  often  feel 
myself  too  small  for  the  task.  Are  you  quite  satis 
fied,  are  you  quite  happy,  Helmer?" 

"No;  but  that  is  not  at  all  necessary.  I  believe 
that  no  man  has  any  rightful  claim  to  be.  Least  of 
all,  we  fighters.  We  need  bitterness,  hindrances  — 
our  goal  must  forever  seem  farther  away  from  us." 

At  this  instant  the  daughter  of  their  host  joined 
them :  — 

"  I  hope  that  I  am  not  disturbing  a  flirtation.  .  .  . 
Do  let  me  sit  down  with  you,  Miss  Garlett.  Oh,  and 
please,  Mr.  Helmer,  do  not  go  away  .  .  .  you  are 
among  my  favorites,  because  you  are  young  still  — 
comparatively  speaking.  The  famous  specimens  of 
wisdom  which  papa  collects  around  him  are  all  too 
venerable  for  me;  it  is  a  genuine  enjoyment  to  see 
two  such  fresh  geniuses  as  you  are.  .  .  .  You  ought 
to  marry  —  pardon  me,  I  am  chattering  absurdi 
ties.  Certainly,  papa  understands  everything  imag 
inable:  making  money  in  heaps,  carrying  out  gigan 
tic  undertakings,  universal  politics,  and  dozens  of 
other  things  —  but  not  the  education  of  daughters. 
Oh,  look,"  she  cried,  interrupting  herself,  "isn't 
that  lovely?" 

She  pointed  to  the  dark  horizon,  where  at  that 
moment  not  merely  one  but  four  airships,  each  pro- 

160 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

vided  with  dazzling  lights,  were  maneuvering.  They 
darted  up  and  swooped  down,  made  "figure  eights" 
and  loops,  passed  and  repassed  one  another  in  pre 
meditated  regularity  —  a  regular  air-quadrille. 

"Is  n't  that  still  lovelier?"  said  Helmer,  pointing 
to  a  shady  clump  of  bushes  where  irregular  points  of 
light  were  flickering.  "There,  do  you  see?  —  fire 
flies  !  Nature  is  everywhere  more  beautiful  than  any 
of  the  works  of  men.  And  do  you  know  also  why 
these  little  creatures,  otherwise  so  invisible,  have 
put  on  such  glittering  coat-tails?  They  are  in  love 
and  they  are  out  a-wooing.  .  .  .  Nature  always 
makes  use  of  beauty  when  she  is  serving  love." 

"  I  cannot  answer  for  that,  Mr.  Helmer.  It  is  my 
principle  —  for  I  am  a  reservoir  filled  to  the  brim 
with  the  strictest  principles  —  to  turn  the  conver 
sation  as  soon  as  a  man  speaks  the  word  love." 

"Yes,  Miss  Toker,  you  really  give  that  impres 
sion,"  laughed  Franka. 

Again  a  fascinating  spectacle  was  presented  to 
them  —  a  great  white  quadrilateral  sheet,  such  as 
are  seen  on  the  stage  of  a  moving-picture  theater, 
appeared  on  the  horizon  stretching  up  high  into  the 
sky  and  on  it  were  projected  magnificently  colored 
living  pictures.  Immense  pictures,  for  the  force  of  the 
imagination  multiplied  their  dimensions  in  propor 
tion  to  the  distance  apparently  equal  to  that  of  the 
stars ;  and  yet  it  was  only  the  trickery  of  diminutive 
films.  It  was  a  wholly  new  invention,  based  on  the 
laws  of  the  Fata  Morgana.  Many  of  the  people  pres 
ent  saw  this  spectacle  for  the  first  time  and  it  filled 
them  with  wonder  and  awe. 

161 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"What  shall  we  not  discover  before  we  get  through, 
we  worms  of  the  earth!"  cried  Franka;  "and  how 
deep  into  the  heavens  even  now  all  our  mechanical 
apparatus  penetrate!" 

"Apparatus,  yes,"  murmured  Chlodwig;  "but 
not  our  minds!" 

"Don't  be  ungrateful,  Helmer,"  said  Franka, 
reproachfully.  "  Does  not  the  great  success  of  your 
1  Schwingen '  prove  sufficiently  that  a  wide  circle  of 
minds  already  feel  a  yearning  for  the  heights?  If  it 
were  not  so,  would  you  be  so  understood,  so  cele 
brated?  Is  n't  it  true,  Miss  Toker,  that  the  English 
translation  of  Helmer's  poem  has  aroused  the  great 
est  admiration  in  England  and  America?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  so;  at  least,  papa  says  so.  He  is 
quite  crazy  over  your  'Schwingen.'  However,  I 
have  n't  read  it.  Papa  thinks  that  you  meant  to 
express  in  poetry  exactly  the  same  as  he  tries  to 
express  with  his  Rose- Week  .  .  .  but  what  that 
really  means  is  a  mystery  to  me.  ...  I  believe  he 
would  like  just  such  a  man  for  his  son-in-law  .  .  . 
but  you  must  not  regard  this  as  an  offer  of  mar 
riage,  Mr.  Helmer.  ...  I  shall  accept  only  an  Amer 
ican  .  .  .  and  if  it  should  chance  to  be  a  European, 
then  it  must  be  at  least  a  duke  in  the  superlative 
degree  —  a  grandduke  or  an  archduke.  .  .  .  Those 
titles  please  me,  and  especially  the  way  those 
grandees  are  addressed  in  German  which,  trans 
lated  into  English,  would  mean  'Your  Transpar 
ency,  Your  Serene  Transparency'  .  .  .  would  not  a 
man  appear  like  a  bunch  of  Roentgen  rays?  .  .  .  But 
now  I  must  trot  back  to  the  salon.  Good-bye!" 

162 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka,  smiling,  looked  at  her  as  she  went,  and 
exclaimed:  "What  a  dear  little  goosie!" 

In  the  white  frame  against  the  evening  sky  now 
appeared  a  magnificent  picture :  —  the  Gods  of 
Olympus.  It  looked  as  if  the  heaven  had  opened  and 
allowed  mortals  down  below  to  see  how  the  Immor 
tals  exist.  To  be  sure,  they  were  only  the  immemori- 
ally  known  forms  of  human  fancy,  such  as  had  been 
seen  to  satiety  in  paintings  and  on  the  stage;  but  the 
vast  space  and  the  gigantic  size  of  the  apparition, 
passing  beyond  all  power  of  comprehension,  evoked 
admiration  mingled  with  awe.  Now,  the  Olympian 
ones  began  to  move:  Hebe  poured  nectar  into  a  cup 
which  she  presented  to  Jupiter;  Cupid  shot  an  arrow 
which  fell  out  of  the  frame  —  it  might  have  pierced 
one  of  the  spectators  down  below;  Venus,  clothed  in 
glittering  silvery  veils,  laid  her  arm  around  the  War- 
God's  shoulder,  and  Juno  caressed  her  peacock  as  it 
stood  with  circling  tail  widespread.  In  a  half-minute 
all  had  disappeared.  Then  followed  a  picture  from 
the  Catholic  Heaven  —  the  Sistine  Madonna,  lovely 
and  motionless.  Fantastic  landscapes  followed,  the 
like  of  which  do  not  exist  on  earth,  inhabited  by 
creatures  such  as  have  never  been  seen.  It  was  as 
if  the  impenetrable  curtain,  which  is  hung  at  a  bil 
lion-mile  distance  over  the  secret  activities  of  the 
world  of  stars,  had  been  suddenly  withdrawn,  giving 
men  a  glimpse  into  the  regions  of  Mars  or  of  Saturn. 
To  be  sure,  they  were  only  pictures  due  to  the  power 
of  human  imagination,  which  can  never  attain  the 
unknown  realities,  yet,  appearing  in  the  firmament, 
they  were  like  revelations  from  other  worlds. 

163 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka  put  her  hand  on  Helmer's  arm:  "Ah, 
Brother  Chlodwig!"  she  sighed,  shuddering. 

He  bent  down  to  her:  "What  is  it,  Franka?"  He 
asked  this  as  gently  as  one  might  inquire  what 
troubled  a  trembling  child,  and  with  his  expressive 
hand  he  made  a  motion  as  if  he  were  going  to  caress 
her  forehead  —  but  he  refrained. 

"I  know  that  it  is  only  illusion  —  but  these 
glances  into  unearthly,  infinite  distances  fill  me  with 
a  weird,  painful  sense  of  loneliness,  of  nothing 
ness  .  .  ." 

"I  know  that.  .  .?" 

"You  do,  Chlodwig?  I  thought,  the  higher  your 
soul  soars,  the  more  at  home  you  felt." 

"The  more  reverent,  perhaps,  —  but  'at  home'? 
Infinite  space  is  so  cold  we  cannot  build  huts  on  the 
Milky  Way"  — he  laid  his  hand  on  Franka's  which 
still  rested  on  his  arm.  "  Do  you  know  the  Schubert 
song  in  which  a  will-o'-the-wisp  holds  up  before 
the  lonely  wanderer  the  realization  of  his  deepest 
yearning :  —  a  warm  house  and  in  it  a  well-beloved 
heart?  .  .  ." 

"A  well-beloved  heart,"  repeated  Franka  dreamily. 

They  remained  for  a  while  silent,  looking  into 
each  other's  eyes.  Then  Franka  withdrew  her  hand 
and  stood  up:  "We  will  return  to  the  salon." 


CHAPTER  XII 

MR.  TOKER'S  ILLUSTRIOUS  GUESTS 

BY  this  time  there  had  assembled  a  still  larger  crowd 
than  before,  visitors  having  come  to  join  the  house- 
party.  Whoever  had  letters  of  introduction  to 
either  Mr.  Toker  or  to  one  of  his  guests,  was  invited 
once  and  for  all  to  spend  the  evening  in  the  Rose- 
Palace. 

When  Franka  entered  the  room,  Mr.  Toker  came 
toward  her:  "Ah,  here  you  are.  ...  I  was  just  look 
ing  for  you.  A  gentleman  is  here  who  is  eager  to 
be  introduced  to  you.  I  will  bring  him  immedi 
ately." 

He  went  away,  and  after  a  few  moments  came 
back  with  a  strikingly  distinguished-looking  young 
man:  — 

"Miss  Garlett,  here  is  Prince  Victor  Adolph,  of 

,  who  tells  me  that  he  has  heard  you  speak  in  his 

father's  city  and  now  is  highly  pleased  to  be  able  to 
bring  his  homage  to  you." 

After  saying  this,  Mr.  Toker  withdrew  and  joined 
his  other  guests. 

Franka  greeted  her  new  acquaintance  with  a  bow. 
"I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you.  .  .  .  Your  Highness 
was  at  my  lecture?" 

"Yes,  gnadiges  Fraulein,  and  I  am  very  much 
pleased  to  be  able  to  hear  you  again.  The  problem 
that  you  are  treating  interests  me  deeply." 

165 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

He  spoke  very  deliberately  in  a  low  tone,  almost 
timidly. 

"Is  that  so,  Prince?  Are  you  really  interested  in 
the  tasks  that  confront  young  women?  For  that  is 
the  theme  which  I  took  for  my  lecture  in  your  home 
city." 

"Heavens,  I  am  interested  in  everything  that  is  in 
any  degree  revolutionary." 
,"A  remarkable  taste  for  an  heir  to  a  throne." 
"I  shall  never  mount  the  throne  —  thank  God!" 
"That  is  a  pity,  for  revolutionary  monarchs  are 
exactly  what  our  epoch  might  make  use  of." 
"Do  you  think  our  epoch  needs  monarchs?" 
This  tone  surprised  Franka  and  appealed  to  her. 
In  order  to  be  able  to  continue  the  conversation,  she 
sat  down  on  a  sofa  which  was  just  behind  her.   At 
her  invitation  Victor  Adolph  took  his  place  on  the 
sofa  at  a  respectful  distance  from  her.    She  let  her 
eyes  rest  with  pleasure  on  his  figure.  He  was  slender, 
sinewy,  and  very  tall ;  his  head  with  its  blond  curly 
hair  was  held  high,  as  if  he  were  a  very  haughty  man ; 
but  this  impression  was  contradicted  by  an  exceed 
ingly  gentle  expression  about  the  mouth;  the  red 
lips  were  not  concealed  by  his  slight  mustache;  his 
eyes  were  intensely  blue  and  full  of  vivacity;  his  eye 
brows  rather  delicate  and  straight,  also  thick  and 
almost  black.  His  age  was  about  twenty-six.  Taken 
all  in  all,  he  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  genus  "  Man." 
With  no  less  pleasure  Victor  Adolph 's  eyes  rested 
on  the  womanly  form  next  him,     Indeed,  Franka 
now  looked  womanly  and  not  girlish  as  at  her  first 
arrival  at  the  Sielenburg.    Both  the  years  and  her 

166 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

work  had  matured  her.  The  earnest  and  passionate 
mental  work  which  she  had  to  accomplish  in  her 
chosen  mission  had  imprinted  on  her  face  an  expres 
sion  of  almost  gloomy  resolution,  but  this  wholly 
disappeared  when  she  opened  her  mouth  to  speak,  or 
still  more  when  she  smiled ;  then  dimples  showed  in 
her  cheeks  and  made  her  look  much  younger  than  she 
was.  Her  figure  also,  though  still  slim  and  supple, 
had  lost  its  former  ethereal  delicacy.  It  was  the  figure 
of  a  majestic  Diana,  not  of  an  emaciated  nymph, 
such  as  "  the  new  art"  liked  to  paint.  For  the  mat 
ter  of  that,  at  this  time  the  fashion  had  changed; 
the  angular,  the  osseous,  thin-as-a-rail  style  was  no 
longer  held  up  as  the  ideal  of  feminine  beauty.  Arms 
like  sticks,  making  a  triangle  at  the  elbow  and  ter 
minating  in  huge  hands;  rectangular  shoulders,  from 
between  which  rises  conically  a  neck  displaying  all 
the  tendons;  hips  so  narrow  that  the  whole  figure 
has  the  shape  of  a  perpendicular  worm,  writhing 
even  when  it  is  not  stepped  on  —  all  this,  according 
to  general  taste,  had  given  place  again  to  the  round, 
soft,  and  wavy  line  which  has  always  prevailed  as  the 
line  of  beauty  in  the  creations  of  Nature. 

Franka  practiced  the  greatest  simplicity  in  her 
dress;  she  wore  only  smooth  materials  of  one  color, 
without  any  adornment  of  puffs,  furbelows,  or  the 
like.  Even  though  her  toilette  followed  the  fashion 
there  was  a  stamp  of  originality  and  a  personal 
touch  in  it.  Her  sleeves  had  invariably  the  well- 
known  open  Garlett  shape.  She  always  wore  a  bou 
quet  of  fresh  violets  at  her  belt.  Her  hair  also  was 
constantly  dressed  in  the  same  way,  the  heavy  black 

167 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

braids  coiled  on  top  of  her  head  and  worn  like  a  dia 
dem.  As  adornment  she  wore  only  pearls,  although 
the  Sielen  family  jewels  consisted  of  diamonds  and 
all  kinds  of  precious  stones. 

Victor  Adolph's  eyes  studied  her  from  head  to  foot 
—  he  was  a  great  connoisseur  and  appraiser  of  the 
art  of  feminine  dress :  art  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word ; 
for  only  an  artistic  sense  can  succeed  in  so  conform 
ing  the  style,  the  color,  and  the  character  of  a  gown 
to  the  peculiarities  of  its  wearer,  so  that  the  two 
make  a  harmonious  picture.  That  evening,  Franka 
wore  a  gown  of  light  pale  lilac ;  her  silken  shoes  and 
stockings  were  also  of  lavender;  a  long  string  of 
pearls  hung  around  her  neck,  and  she  had  the  bunch 
of  violets  at  her  breast,  her  white  arms  as  usual  were 
without  gloves,  her  hands  innocent  of  rings. 

"  You  asked  if  our  epoch  needs  monarchs?  Prince, 
that  is  a  strange  question  in  your  mouth." 

"  I  have  more  than  once  noticed  that  if  I  say  any 
thing  reasonable  it  arouses  astonishment,  because 
I  happen  to  be  a  prince.  Does  n't  that  in  itself  imply 
that  princes  are  superfluous?  Indeed,  is  not  the  whole 
history  of  social  progress  marked  by  the  gradual  dis 
appearance  of  once  acknowledged  necessities?" 

Thus  they  talked  for  a  while  about  generalities, 
but  their  interest  and  their  thoughts  were  not  so 
much  directed  to  the  subject  of  their  conversation 
as  to  the  mutual  observation  of  their  personalities; 
what  they  each  felt  was  that  they  were  satisfied  with 
each  other  and  that  they  were  sympathetic.  But 
others  soon  joined  them  and  Prince  Victor  Adolph 
took  his  leave. 

168 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

In  another  corner  of  the  salon  stood  John  A.  Toker 
surrounded  by  a  dozen  of  his  most  distinguished 
guests. 

"I  have  just  learned,  my  good  friends,"  said  Mr. 
Toker,  "that  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  days  the 
heads  of  two  European  countries  are  coming  here 
in  order  to  be  present  at  some  of  our  public  functions 
—  the  King  of  Italy  and  the  President  of  the  French 
Republic.  We  must  manage  it  so  that  the  address 
'  The  War  in  the  Air '  which  is  put  down  on  our  pro 
gramme  will  be  heard  by  these  exalted  personages. 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  nothing  more  interesting 
to  the  leaders  of  the  nations  than  the  subject,  War. 
There  is  no  surer  guarantee  of  their  fame:  —  if  they 
carry  it  on,  they  are  glorious  War- Lords;  if  they 
manage  to  avoid  it,  then  they  are  sublime  Princes 
of  Peace.  In  the  second  place,  the  way  in  which  the 
war-problem  is  treated  among  us  can  only  prove 
useful  when  it  reaches  the  rulers  of  human  society." 

"Or  the  wide  masses,"  remarked  one  of  the  by 
standers. 

"Well,  yes,"  assented  Toker;  "the  masses  also 
constitute  a  ruling  order.  Whoever  wishes  the  wel 
fare  of  human  society  will  not  care  whether  it  is  at 
tained  from  above  or  from  below.  Best  of  all,  when 
both  meet  and  complement  each  other." 

The  same  bystander  again  remarked:  "Opposites 
do  not  complement,  but  mutually  destroy  each 
other." 

"Ah,  my  worthy  friend,"  retorted  Toker,  "we 
must  not  be  checked  in  our  endeavors  by  such  gener 
alities.  If  phrases  like  that  do  contain  a  truth,  still 

169 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

we  must  find  out  whether  they  can  be  applied  to 
the  special  case  that  lies  before  us.  A  thing  must 
be  seized  from  all  sides.  That  offers  the  best  chance 
of  finally  hitting  upon  the  right  side  or  several  right 
sides.  Not  merely  one  road  leads  to  Rome.  All  of 
you,  my  dear  Knights  of  the  Rose,  are  a  living  proof 
to  me  how  varied  are  the  ways  that  lead  to  the 
heights  of  Humanity  —  every  one  of  you  has  struck 
out  in  a  different  path,  and  yet  they  all  meet  in  — " 

"Lucerne!"  interpolated  some  one. 

Toker  nodded.  "Quite  right!  In  Lucerne:  that 
means,  since  our  'Rose- Week,'  something  else  than 
the  mere  name  of  a  city." 

With  joyous  pride  he  glanced  around  and  summed 
up  in  his  mind  the  valuation  of  the  intellects  there 
assembled.  In  fact,  he  had  good  reason  to  be  proud, 
for  among  the  great  men  who  had  come  to  Lucerne 
at  his  invitation  were  .  .  .  Yet,  the  form  in  which 
this  story  is  told,  allowing  events  to  be  projected 
into  the  future,  precludes  calling  the  Knights  of  the 
Rose  Order  by  name  ...  So,  then,  no  names  —  only 
a  few  incomplete  data:  — 

A  French  author,  regarded  by  his  countrymen  as 
the  greatest  of  the  living  authors.  No  longer  young, 
he  has  an  enormous  list  of  books  to  his  credit;  all 
brilliantly  worked  out  with  historical,  prehistoric, 
and  imaginary  background,  full  of  irony  and  full  of 
wrath  against  social  follies  and  absurdities,  upright, 
bold,  a  warm  worshiper  before  the  altar  of  beauty. 

A  young  Russian  poet.  The  events  of  the  Manchu- 
rian  War,  the  horrors  of  the  succeeding  revolution, 
and  of  the  still-more  horrible  counter-revolution 

170 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

still  played  on  his  soul,  just  as  the  tempest  plays  on 
the  strings  of  an  aeolian  harp,  enticing  forth  the  most 
magical  tones.  He  is  waging  a  fierce,  relentless  war 
against  society's  most  arrant  enemy :  against  stupid 
ity  in  all  its  forms ;  especially  in  the  form  of  supersti 
tion  and  in  that  of  the  criminal  folly  which  impels  men 
to  enthrall,  to  persecute,  and  to  tear  one  another  to 
pieces.  His  eyes  are  unspeakably  sad,  but  resolution 
speaks  from  his  features.  He  wields  his  lash  savagely 
and  pitilessly,  not  because  he  hates  or  despises  man 
kind  —  on  the  contrary,  he  sees  in  it  a  temple  from 
which  he  will  drive  the  profaners  in  holy  wrath. 

A  great  tragedienne  of  the  Latin  stock.  When  she 
plays,  she  appears  to  express  the  lament  of  her  own 
sorrow.  Seeing  her  you  involuntarily  think  of  what 
some  artless  Madonna  paintings  show;  a  bleeding 
heart  surrounded  with  a  wreath  of  thorns.  All  the 
majesty  that  halos  misfortune  is  expressed  in  her 
carriage,  in  the  accent  of  her  voice.  She  is  beautiful, 
but  her  beauty  is  as  it  were  veiled  behind  a  dark 
crape.  Truly  her  art  is  many-sided  and  she  plays 
even  gay  parts;  but  what  especially  characterizes 
her  is  the  reflection  of  human  suffering  which  seems 
rather  the  exposure  of  her  own.  You  cannot  be  a 
spectator  of  her  acting  and  fail  to  be  deeply  moved, 
and  a  soul  subjected  to  such  emotion  is  a  soul  en 
nobled  at  least  during  the  time  while  the  emotion 
lasts. 

A  German  writer ;  a  deep  student  of  natural  sci 
ences.  A  prophet  of  an  infinitely  poetic  natural  phi 
losophy,  thereby  exposed  to  the  scornful  and  super 
cilious  arrogance  of  technical  and  special  scientists. 

171 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Not  for  him,  to  pigeonhole,  to  ticket,  and  to  num 
ber;  his  outlook  embraces  the  wide,  all-circling  hori 
zon;  his  spirit  penetrates  into  the  All-Spirit;  his 
knowledge  and  love  of  Nature  soar  up  into  worship ; 
his  books  are  literary  masterpieces.  And  for  this 
reason  pedants  are  quivering  with  scorn,  so  that 
their  very  souls,  being  so  dry,  crack  if  his  name  is 
mentioned. 

A  French  statesman  and  politician,  a  senator,  and 
experienced  diplomat:  a  man  of  the  world  to  his 
finger-tips;  full  of  witty  turns  and  repartees  in  con 
versation;  full  of  clear,  conclusive  logic  in  public 
speech;  one  of  the  most  consistent  and  fearless 
speakers  in  the  Senate.  Fearlessness  characterizes  his 
eloquence,  for  he  speaks  against  the  tendencies  of 
the  day,  against  the  chauvinistic-patriotic  majority, 
against  the  proposals  of  his  personal  friend,  the  Min 
ister  of  the  Navy.  In  matters  of  international  arbi 
tration  he  is  not  only  quick  to  support  and  suggest, 
but  moreover  to  accomplish.  To  him  are  due  agree 
ments,  compromises,  treaties;  many  a  web  of  an 
cient  misunderstandings  and  jealousies  has  been 
obliterated  from  the  world  through  his  agency,  and 
on  this  account  the  fanatical  supporters  of  nation 
alism  have  even  threatened  his  life. 

An  American  inventor  —  one  might  rather  say 
a  wholesale  inventor.  People  call  him  the  wizard". 
He  conducts  his  experiments  en  gros,  by  the  bushel ! 
The  number  of  marvelous  works  for  which  his  con 
temporaries  and  those  to  come  have  to  thank  him, 
the  things  which  lift  men  up  to  higher  levels  of  life, 
are,  beyond  reckoning;  and  what  is  finest  about  them 

172 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  that  not  one  of  his  instruments  and  pieces  of 
apparatus  is  designed  or  fitted  to  serve  purposes  of 
destruction.  The  Mecca  of  all  those  who  register 
patents  —  the  ministries  of  war  —  is  closed  to  his  in 
ventions.  What  he  has  elaborated  and  accomplished 
serves  not  for  making  human  bodies  into  pulp;  it 
has  the  modest  aim  of  making  life  easier,  more  beau 
tiful,  and  more  enjoyable,  and  of  enriching  human 
society.  One  of  his  latest  "trouvailles"  —  that  of 
casting  houses  out  of  cement  —  had,  at  the  time 
of  the  last  Rose- Week  at  Lucerne,  already  found 
so  much  popular  acceptance  that  quite  commonly 
these  cheap,  quickly  erected,  and  at  the  same  time 
aesthetic  and  hygienic  domiciles  were  being  built,  — 
that  is  to  say,  cast,  —  and  simultaneously  an  end  was 
put  to  one  of  the  greatest  of  evils  —  the  wretched 
housing  of  the  poor,  from  which  a  third  of  the  prev 
alent  vice  and  illness  springs. 

A  dramatic  author  from  England ;  sparkling  with 
wit  and  intellect,  who  writes  the  bitterest  satires, 
but  with  a  background  of  tenderness ;  also  an  ameli 
orator  of  the  world  and  mankind,  not,  indeed,  by 
saying  to  men,  "Become  better,"  but  by  endeavoring, 
by  his  ridicule,  to  exterminate  whatever  makes  them 
bad.  He  tears  off  hypocritical  masks  and  shows  the 
ugly  grimaces  behind  them;  on  the  other  hand,  he 
has  the  knack  of  entwining  a  gentle  halo  around  poor 
and  humble  forms,  around  the  oppressed,  the  mis 
understood,  the  mistaken.  Humor  has  been  defined 
as  a  smile  and  a  tear;  in  his  humor  the  contrast 
is  much  stronger:  it  is  the  sobbing  laughter  of 
scorn. 

173 


;WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

A  Scandinavian  woman  devoted  to  philosophy, 
full  of  the  profound  gentle  wisdom  of  experience: 
an  aged  woman,  who  had  never  married  or  borne 
children,  but  who  speaks  with  the  tongue  of  angels 
about  the  sacredness  of  marriage  and  the  rights  of 
His  Majesty  the  Child:  a  champion  of  free,  proud 
individuality  —  that  is  to  say,  pretty  much  the  same 
thing  as  Goethe  called  personality  and  designated 
as  the  loftiest  happiness. 

An  American  statesman:  the  man  whose  motto 
runs:  "  The  same  moral  law  that  holds  among  indi 
viduals  must  also  prevail  among  nations  " ;  a  motto 
which  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the  principles  on 
which  hitherto  the  "  classical  polities  "  of  the  most 
celebrated  European  statesmen  have  been  founded. 
Our  American  looks  back  on  a  long,  beneficent  ca 
reer.  Peaceful  victories,  positive,  not  negative,  peace 
ful  victories,  have  been  won  by  him.  His  great  work 
has  been  the  successful  bringing  together  of  the  two 
halves  of  America  into  one  great  Union.  Moreover, 
during  his  administration  he  has  concluded  a  large 
number  of  permanent  arbitration  treaties  with  the 
States  of  Europe.  Practically  unknown  to  the  gen 
eral  European  public,  he  has  cultivated  a  large  part 
of  that  soil  which  modern  culture  has  won  away 
from  the  ancient  dominion  of  War.  Toker  had  a 
high  regard  for  this  man,  who  of  all  his  guests  stood 
nearest  to  him. 

Another  poet.  The  son  of  a  small  European  coun 
try.  To  belong  to  a  first-class  Power  is  certainly  not 
a  condition,  not  even  necessarily  a  help,  to  individual 
greatness.  Dreamy,  mysterious  almost  unreal  are 

174 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

this  poet's  stage  productions.  His  prose  works,  on 
the  contrary,  are  those  of  a  clear,  perspicuous  thinker. 

A  German  historian:  one  who  has  triumphantly 
introduced  a  new  method  into  his  range  of  studies  — 
that  of  a  philosophical  synthesis.  In  his  view,  his 
tory  is  not  the  arraying  of  events  in  sequence,  not 
the  biographies  of  single  personages  who  chance  to 
stand  in  the  foreground,  but  a  process  of  social  de 
velopment  which  conditions  the  events  and  the  per 
sonages  —  not  the  reverse.  And  he  sees  and  proves 
that  the  way  of  this  development  leads  always  to 
higher  organization;  and,  because  he  knows  that 
and  because  he  makes  it  known,  he  aids  in  hastening 
hurfianity's  course  along  this  way. 

Still  another  inventor.  This  one  had  not  as  yet 
won  world-repute,  for  his  invention  was  of  too  re 
cent  occurrence.  But  Toker  knew  him  and  his  work, 
and  knew  that  he  merited  a  Grand  Cross  in  the  Order 
of  the  Rose-Knights,  not  only  for  the  greatness  of  his 
invention,  but  also  for  the  greatness  of  the  object 
which  would  be  attained  by  it.  Its  first  introduction 
to  the  public,  its  first  demonstration,  was  to  surprise 
the  world  during  this  very  week. 

A  young  composer  from  Russian  Poland:  a  man 
whose  works  had  come  to  the  notice  of  the  world 
during  the  last  two  years,  but  had  taken  the  world 
by  storm.  His  operas  and  symphonies  had  the  most 
up-to-date  richness  of  orchestration,  the  greatest 
originality  of  harmony,  but  were  permeated  by  a 
heavenly  sweetness  of  melody,  such  as  had  not  in 
long  years,  perhaps  never  before,  been  heard.  For 
this  Rose- Week  he  had  brought  his  latest  creation, 

175 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

never  as  yet  publicly  performed,  —  a  quartette  for 
violin,  harmonium,  harp,  and  baritone  voice,  en 
titled  "Le  Chant  des  Roses."  It  was  perfectly  ap 
propriate  that  music  and  song  should  also  have  their 
part  in  this  festal  week  which  stood  under  the  sym 
bol  of  Height  Achievement. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  LUNCHEON   PARTY 

A  SMALL  company  of  hotel  guests  who  had  been 
lunching  together  were  sitting  at  their  black  coffee 
in  a  large  special  salon.  It  was  the  first  day  of  the 
second  Rose- Week,  and  the  opening  festival  was  to 
take  place  that  evening.  The  conversation  of  the  gay 
little  party,  which  consisted  of  two  ladies  and  four 
gentlemen,  turned  on  the  programme  of  the  exer 
cises. 

One  of  the  ladies  was  a  Russian  countess,  a  woman 
no  longer  young, — she  must  have  been  more  than 
forty,  —  but  still  handsome  and  very  elegant;  she 
was  the  hostess  at  the  luncheon.  The  other  lady  was 
a  young  widow,  Annette  Felsen,  the  cousin  and 
companion  of  the  countess;  very  lively,  gay,  and 
coquettish.  The  gentlemen  were  an  elderly  French 
man,  easily  recognized  as  a  former  officer;  a  tall 
dark-eyed  Italian,  also  past  his  first  youth,  for  his 
wavy  black  hair  was  shot  through  with  many  silver 
threads.  His  name  was  Marchese  Romeo  Rinotti  — 
a  name  which  had  a  good  repute  in  the  political  world 
and  played  a  prominent  part  in  the  ministerial  coun 
cil  of  the  kingdom.  The  two  other  gentlemen  were 
Bruning  and  Regenburg. 

The  conversation  ran  now  in  French,  now  in  Ger 
man.  Bruning  had  just  been  reading  from  the  paper 
the  names  of  Toker's  guests,  and  then  remarked  that 

177 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Chlodwig  Helmer,  who  on  the  following  day  was  to 
read  from  his  poem  "  Schwingen,"  was  a  friend  of  his. 

"Ah,"  cried  the  Countess  Vera,  "that  is  interest 
ing  —  you  must  introduce  him  to  us  —  I  dote  on 
poets  .  .  .  not  so  much  as  on  musicians,  though.  I 
confess  frankly  that  what  attracts  me  most  in  the 
whole  programme  is  'Le  Chant  des  Roses.'  This 
young  Pole  is  simply  divine  .  .  .  though  I  don't  like 
the  Poles,  because  they  hate  us.  But  what  kind  of 
a  man  is  your  friend?" 

"Oh,  a  fine  fellow,  only  somewhat  high-strung.  I 
also  know  Fraulein  Garlett.  She,  too,  comes  from  my 
country.  I  should  like  to  see  these  two  make  a  match ; 
they  are  admirably  suited  to  each  other:  neither  is 
quite  normal  and  she  is  extremely  rich.  I  should  like 
to  see  my  friend  marry  her." 

"  But  is  n't  this  girl  an  agitator  for  the  emancipa 
tion  of  women?"  asked  the  old  Frenchman,  Baron 
Gaston  de  la  Rochere?  "  One  does  not  marry  such 
a  person." 

Madame  Annette  Felsen  laughed:  "Why,  but 
you  are  quite  vieuxjeu,  my  dear  Baron,  quite  ancien 
regime  ..." 

The  baron  straightened  himself  up.  "Yes,  I  flat 
ter  myself.  ...  In  this  degenerating  world  there 
certainly  ought  to  be  a  few  people  who  stand  by  the 
old  principles,  the  old  true  ideals.  I  am  very  anxious 
to  know  what  doctrines  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  Rose  Order  are  going  to  preach.  They  will 
scarcely  develop  in  a  fitting  way  the  highest  concept 
there  is :  that  of  patriotism  —  since  they  belong  to 
the  most  diversified  countries,  often  opposed  and 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

unfriendly  to  one  another ;  and  then  tact  will  forbid 
their  expressing  openly  their  patriotic  wishes.  By 
the  whole  make-up  of  the  programme  and  by  many 
suspicious  names  among  the  participants  —  for 
example,  I  would  never  have  sent  here  as  a  repre 
sentative  of  France  the  Frenchman  who  is  going  to 
speak  —  by  the  various  names,  I  believe  there  is 
danger  that  revolutionary  ideas  will  be  put  forward 
more  than  is  desirable.  Indeed,  the  old  order  and 
the  sacred  traditions  are  so  shaken  that  only  a  good 
war  could  possibly  set  things  straight  again.  Then 
we  should  have  the  chance  to  restore  to  the  throne 
of  France  a  monarch  appointed  by  God,  one  who 
would  once  for  all  drive  out  the  radical  and  free- 
masonic  rabble  which  at  the  present  time  puts  our 
country  to  shame.  And  even  if  there  were  no  one 
of  royal  blood,  still  if  there  were  a  victorious  soldier 
—  a  war-hero  ..." 

Countess  Vera  uttered  a  little  shriek.  "Do  not 
speak  of  war,  mon  colonel  ...  it  is  now  many  years 
ago  .  .  .  but  the  Manchurian  campaign  with  all  its 
consequences  still  trembles  in  all  my  nerves.  .  .  . 
Did  n't  the  peasants  burn  my  castle?  The  war  itself 
would  not  have  been  anything  .  .  .  that  is  as  God 
wills;  but  the  terrible  revolution  afterwards  .  .  .  and 
that  would  break  out  again  after  another  war  .  .  . 
there  are  so  many  nihilists  among  us.  It  was,  indeed, 
a  piece  of  good  luck  that  they  could  choke  off  the 
revolution  —  the  saints  helped  once  more,  and  gen 
uine  Russians  remained  faithful  to  the  Tsar,  who 
ought  never  to  have  granted  a  constitution  ..." 

"Vera,  Vera,"  interrupted  Madame  Annette, 
179 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"do  not  talk  about  politics.  There,  please  light  a 
cigarette.  ...  I  will  take  one,  too,  and  if  politics  is 
to  be  talked  about,  then  will  you  do  the  talking, 
Marchese!  you  certainly  ought  to  understand  the 
subject,  you  who  are  the  diplomat,  the  prominent 
statesman,  the  Italian  Bismarck!" 

The  marchese  offered  the  ladies  a  light.  "A  dip 
lomat,"  said  he,  "should  rather  be  silent  than  speak, 
but  I  can  comfort  the  colonel  by  saying  that  the 
prospects  for  a  war  in  Europe  are  growing  brighter 
and  brighter.  Perhaps  he  will  see  the  beautiful  times 
of  the  ancien  regime  return.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
my  yearning  to  bring  back  the  past  goes  still  farther 
back.  The  only  true,  beautiful,  fiery,  proud  life  was  at 
the  time  of  the  Renaissance.  Life  was  not  regarded, 
men  took  no  care  of  it,  but  they  lived  intensely.  .  .  . 
Those  adventures,  those  riotous  magnificences  of 
living  and  of  art,  that  wild  existence,  that  lordly 
power  of  unscrupulousness !  ..." 

He  had  worked  himself  into  a  passion  of  eloquence, 
and  at  his  final  words  an  almost  Satanic  smile,  which 
showed  his  white  teeth,  flickered  around  his  mouth. 
Annette  looked  at  him  in  amazement :  — 

"You  would  have  made  a  splendid  condottiere, 
signor.  What  do  you  say,  Herr  Regenburg?" 

The  famous  sportsman  had  scarcely  understood; 
he  was  not  very  fluent  in  French,  but  now  that  he 
was  called  upon  to  give  his  opinion,  he  had  to  say 
something,  whether  well  or  ill.  He  tittered  rather 
idiotically. 

"Why,  yes,  my  dear  lady,  it  is  fine  to  have  a  bit 
of  a  row;  we  must  have  some  slashing  about.  .  .  . 

180 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

But  you  are  quite  right,  Marchese,  and  so  are  you, 
Colonel  —  the  old  days  ought  to  come  back  again." 

He  waved  his  liqueur-glass  and  emptied  it  at  one 
gulp.  .  .  . 

"Old  times  do  not  return,"  said  Bruning;  "neither 
the  times  of  Napoleon,  nor  those  of  the  Sun-King, 
nor  those  of  the  Medici.  But  whoever  delights  in 
unscrupulousness  and  lack  of  consideration  has  no 
need  to  mourn  over  the  present:  attacking  and  op 
pressing,  in  order  to  attain  power  or  to  preserve  it, 
is  still  in  sway,  even  though  in  a  different  manner, 
and  will  probably  always  continue,  for  the  emblems 
of  worldly  success  remain  claws  and  teeth  —  or  at 
least  elbows." 

A  hotel  valet  came  in  and  handed  Bruning  a 
card. 

"Ah,  my  friend  Helmer,"  said  he,  rising.  "Allow 
me,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  to  leave  you ;  I  must  re 
ceive  him." 

"Is  that  the  poet  —  the  author  of  'Schwingen'?" 
asked  Countess  Vera.  "  Please  ask  him  to  come  here ; 
we  should  all  be  so  pleased  to  meet  him." 

"If  you  permit  it";  and,  turning  to  the  servant: 
"Show  the  gentleman  in." 

Bruning  went  to  meet  Helmer  at  the  door: 
"  'T  was  good  of  you  to  look  me  up.  You  find  me  in 
a  little  company  who  are  eager  to  make  your  ac 
quaintance.  Allow  me  to  present  you:  my  fellow- 
countryman  and  schoolmate,  the  boldest  aviator  of 
the  present  ..." 

Helmer  shook  his  head:  " I  have  never  been  in  an 
airship  in  my  life." 

181 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"  But  you  fly  up  into  the  bluest  heights  on  the  wings 
of  your  verse." 

"Indeed;  I  had  always  heard  only  of  verse- 
feet." 

Bruning  continued  his  introductions:  "The  Count 
ess  Vera  Petrovna  Solnikova,  of  Petersburg,  who 
has  had  the  kindness  to  invite  us  to  a  feast  of  Lucul- 
lus;  Madame  Felsen,  from  Reval;  Baron  Gaston  de 
la  Rochere,  from  Bretagne;  His  Excellency,  Mar- 
chese  Rinotti,  from  Rome,  the  coming  director  of 
the  destinies  of  Italy;  and  this  is  Herr  Regenburg, 
the  well-known  Viennese  sportsman.  And  now,  tell 
us  —  does  the  Rose-Spectacle  start  off  to-day?" 

The  Countess  Vera  motioned  Helmer  to  sit  down 
and  offered  him  a  cup  of  coffee,  which  he  ac 
cepted. 

"Yes,"  said  she;  "tell  us  how  it  is  all  planned  — 
the  programme  is  so  indefinite.  Shall  we  hear  you 
to-day?" 

"No,  not  to-day.  To-day  a  great  man  is  going  to 
speak,"  —  and  he  mentioned  the  name  of  the  French 
author,  —  "and  there  are  to  be  others.  Yet  I  must 
not  tell  you.  It  is  characteristic  of  Mr.  Toker's  pro 
gramme,  that  no  programme  is  announced.  If  the 
public  should  know  in  advance  on  which  day  this  or 
that  person  was  to  speak  and  know  what  would  be  the 
subject,  then  they  would  be  able  to  pick  and  choose, 
and  Mr.  Toker  wants  all  to  be  heard  by  all.  It  is  like 
a  salon,  where  the  guests  do  not  know  what  sort  of 
artistic  offerings  are  to  be  presented.  It  is  all  a  sur 
prise." 

"If  I  can  only  succeed  in  hearing  one  of  that 
182 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR7 

divine  Polish  master's  compositions,  than  I  shall  be 
rewarded  for  having  made  the  journey  to  Lucerne," 
said  the  countess,  with  a  sentimental  upward  glance 
of  her  eyes.  "And  you,  Annette,  you  are  especially 
crazy  over  Mile.  Garlett,  the  famous  feminist, 
are  n't  you?" 

"Yes,  that  I  am,  although  I  do  not  care  about 
women's  rights,  but  I  have  heard  so  much  about 
that  lady  ..." 

"Fraulein  Garlett  is  no  'Feminist,'"  interrupted 
Helmer  eagerly,  "and  she  does  not  preach  emancipa 
tion.  She  is  not  so  desirous  of  winning  rights  for 
women  as  of  doing  away  with  ancient  prerogatives, 
which  they  possess  to  the  injury  of  all." 

"How  so?  what  prerogatives?"  asked  the  others. 

"Of  being  idle;  of  having  an  empty  brain;  of  dis 
claiming  all  care  for  the  common  weal;  of  think 
ing  themselves  absolved  from  the  bother  of  logical 
thought  .  .  .  and  so  of  robbing  humanity  of  half  its 
intellectual  working  power." 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Annette. 

"Oh,  I  understand!"  exclaimed  M.  de  la  Rochere. 
"Women  are  to  mix  in  politics.  How  advantageous 
that  is  has  been  shown  by  the  tricoteuses  around  the 
guillotine  and  the  petroleuses  during  the  Commune. 
.  .  .  Woman  is  a  creature  d?  amour.  . .  .  Wife,  mistress, 
odalisque  .  .  .  that  is  our  French  ideal!" 

"  In  Germany,  also,  a  feminine  ideal  has  been  es 
tablished,"  remarked  Bruning;  "that  of  three  capital 
K's:  —  Kirche,  Kinder,  Kuche  —  church,  children, 
kitchen." 

The  Italian  Minister  turned  the  conversation: 
183 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Do  you  know,  Herr  Helmer,  two  years  ago,  when 

I  was  passing  through  Berlin,  I  attended  the  pre 
miere  of  your  last  drama  and  was  delighted  at  its 
great  success.    I  hope  the  piece  is  to  be  given  soon 
on  the  Italian  stage." 

"  Indeed,  Your  Excellency,  that  has  actually  been 
arranged  for  —  it  is  to  be  presented  next  winter  at 
Milan." 

1 '  Unless  in  the  mean  time, ' '  said  Bruning,  laughing, 

II  the  great  European  war  should  break  out  which 
the  signer  marchese  predicts." 

Helmer  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Oh,  yes,  that 
famous  unavoidable  European  war  of  the  future, 
which  has  been  announced  for  many  long  years, 
but  which  nevertheless,  so  far,  has  been  warded 
off." 

"So  you  still  think  it  avoidable,  do  you?"  asked 
the  Countess  Vera. 

"I  consider  it  impossible.  Unless  Europe  takes 
up  with  a  suicidal  policy." 

Bruning  tapped  Helmer  on  the  shoulder:  "This 
shows  what  an  incorrigible  idealist  you  are  —  deaf 
and  blind  to  the  coarse  realities  of  life.  You  look  on 
men  as  angels,  while  in  reality  they  are  beasts." 

Helmer  impatiently  shook  Bruning's  hand  from 
his  shoulder:  "Present  company  excepted,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,"  said  he.  "But  you  know  that  I  will  not 
have  a  controversy  with  you." 

The  sportsman  wanted  to  smooth  things  over.  "  It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  Herr  Helmer  is  right  —  for  if  a 
war  were  to  break  out,  all  securities  would  go  down 
seriously.  But  still,  if  it  should  happen,  it  would  be 

184 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

a  wholesome  letting  of  blood.  And  who  can  prevent 
the  decrees  of  history?" 

"Oh,  history,  history,"  exclaimed  Helmer,  in  a 
tone  of  vexation.  "Does  history  make  us  or  do  we 
make  history?  If  you  put  yourself  before  the  mirror 
and  make  up  faces,  can  one  say,  when  there  is  an 
ugly  reflection, '  who  can  prevent  the  grimaces  of  the 
mirror'?" 

"There  is  no  use  discussing,"  said  the  marchese. 
"On  general  grounds  it  seems  to  me,  my  dear  poet, 
that  you  do  not  have  a  very  sound  comprehension 
of  affairs  here  below.  You  soar  up  into  a  world  of 
thought  and  do  not  see  what  positive  facts  bring. 
You  do  not  know  what  seething  and  fermentation 
are  going  on  in  the  lower  regions  of  political  and  so 
cial  life ;  how  friction  and  tension  are  increasing,  and 
how  ultimately  —  and  very  soon,  too,  —  there  must 
be  an  explosion." 

"In  other  words,  you  consider  me  blind,  Your 
Excellency?  Of  course,  I  know  right  well  that  there 
is  seething  and  fermentation.  It  certainly  cannot 
continue  as  it  is  now ;  a  mighty  change  —  what  you 
call  an  explosion  —  is  before  us,  —  I  agree  to  that. 
We  have  entered  upon  the  age  of  the  air,  the  age  of 
the  heights.  The  depths  are  to  be  left  behind.  All 
that  is  low  is  to  be  conquered.  Not  by  forcible  de 
struction  —  but  it  will  disappear,  will  sink  away. 
.  .  .  Have  you  ever  made  a  voyage  in  an  airship  and 
gone  up  high,  Your  Excellency?  If  you  have,  you 
found  that  it  was  not  so  much  a  mounting  into  the 
upper  regions  as  it  was  a  sinking  away  of  what  was 
below.  I  know  of  things  which  are  in  preparation, 

185 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

which  are  unknown  to  you  and  which  are  to  be 
revealed  during  our  Rose- Week.  In  our  midst  so 
journs  an  inventor,  a  conqueror  .  .  .  yet  I  must  not 
betray  secrets."  He  stood  up.  "I  must  be  going. 
I  hope  I  shall  see  you  all  this  evening  at  our  opening 
session." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

DREAMS   OF   LOVE 

"  Ninon,  Ninon,  que  fais-tu  de  la  vie,  toi  qui  vis  sans  amour  ?  " 

THE  text  of  this  song  haunted  Franka's  memory. 
She  was  reclining  on  the  couch  in  her  little  salon, 
her  arms  crossed  behind  her  head,  her  eyes  closed. 

The  red  silk  shades  at  the  windows  were  drawn 
and  a  ruddy  twilight  permeated  the  room.  All  the 
salons  in  the  suites  put  at  the  disposal  of  Mr.  Toker's 
guests  had  red  hangings  and  white  walls.  The  chairs 
and  sofas  were  rose-colored.  The  carpets  showed  red 
roses  on  a  white  ground.  The  sleeping-rooms  were 
also  upholstered  in  these  two  colors,  and  the  bath 
rooms  attached  to  each  apartment  were  fitted  with 
rose-marble.  Toker  did  not  want  his  guests  to  be  for 
a  single  minute  free  from  the  spell  of  roses.  Even  the 
water,  as  it  flowed  through  the  faucets  at  the  wash- 
stands,  was  perfumed  with  roses,  and  rose-scented 
soap  was  provided.  The  chandeliers  were  of  pale- 
rose  glass  and  a  rose-colored  shade  protected  every 
electric  lamp. 

Frau  Eleonore  was  sitting  at  the  writing-table  of 
the  little  salon  and  was  writing  picture-postcards  for 
the  whole  circle  of  her  acquaintance.  Now  and  then 
she  interrupted  this  occupation  and  glanced  over  at 
Franka. 

"There,  you  have  been  lying  for  almost  an  hour 
perfectly  motionless,  my  dear;  were  you  asleep?" 

187 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"No,  only  thinking." 

"Were  you  meditating  on  your  coming  address?  " 

"  No,  I  am  thinking  —  for  a  wonder  —  of  myself. 
I  am  putting  Franka  Garlett  timid  questions  and  she 
is  answering  them  hesitatingly." 

"Might  one  know  what  the  subject  of  this  inter 
esting  inquisition  is?" 

"  It  is  too  vague  to  be  expressed  in  words." 

"Yet  I  think  I  can  imagine:  the  first  question  put 
by  the  inquisitor  to  the  victim  runs:  'Confess!  how 
did  yesterday's  prince  please  you?" 

"You  think  so,  do  you?"  She  shook  her  head, 
laughing;  "you  are  on  the  wrong  track." 

"Indeed!  Then,  perhaps  .  .  ." 

"Please  do  not  you  take  upon  yourself  the  office 
of  investigator.  .  .  .  Instead,  please  go  on  writing 
your  'cordial  greetings  from  Lucerne'  and  let  me 
think  for  a  while  longer." 

"Very  well;  I  must  post  a  dozen  or  more  cards 
before  the  mail  is  collected." 

Franka  again  took  up  the  thread  of  her  thoughts 
as  before  ..."  Toi  qui  vis  sans  amour.1'  .  .  .  Now  for 
the  first  time,  called  up  by  Frau  Eleonore's  jesting 
words,  arose  Victor  Adolph's  picture  before  her.  She 
had  certainly  not  been  thinking  of  him  before.  Only 
of  love  in  general :  not  even  of  that  —  rather  of  the 
sense  of  troublous  unsatisfying  yearning  which  occa 
sionally  took  possession  of  her  and  caused  her  pain 
—  a  feeling  of  emptiness,  of  melancholy  .  .  .  and  as 
if  to  give  some  explanation  for  it,  she  had  been  re 
peating  to  herself  the  words  of  that  French  song. 

Was  it  possible  that  her  life's  failure  consisted  in  the 

188 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

fact  that  it  was  without  love?  She  had  given  herself 
with  zeal  and  enthusiasm  to  a  great  idea,  to  a  great 
object,  and  had  relentlessly  waved  aside  everything 
else.  She  had  accomplished  her  lofty  task  and  her 
success  had  brought  her  great  satisfaction.  She  had 
made  known  perfectly  new  theories  regarding  the 
rights  and  duties  of  women  and  had  been  able  to 
impose  them  on  others.  So  successful  had  her  work 
been  that  she  had  won  a  reputation  confirmed  by 
her  enrollment  in  the  Order  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Roses,  and  yet  .  .  .  and  yet  .  .  .  there  was  this  yearn 
ing.  .  .  .  What  for?  If  it  were  for  love,  how  came  it 
that  no  one  of  those  who  had  come  into  her  vicinity 
had  awakened  that  passion  in  her  heart?  Not  one 
had  attracted  her,  or  even  for  a  moment  put  her 
senses  into  a  tumult.  Though  often,  whether  in  a 
dream  or  in  a  book  she  was  reading,  the  glamour 
of  artistic  impressions  or  of  mild  spring  nights,  a  sud 
den  glow  swept  through  her  veins,  oppressing  her, 
it  was  never  associated  with  the  image  of  any  special 
man.  And  if  an  impulse  swelled  her  heart  toward 
tenderness,  —  not  toward  passionate  bliss,  but  to 
ward  a  sincere,  gentle  tenderness,  —  then  she  had 
no  idea  whom  she  should  bless  with  it. 

No,  she  had  not  been  thinking  of  the  prince;  she 
was  trying  to  formulate  another  recollection  of  the 
evening  before :  that  moment,  when  in  her  terror  at 
a  vision  in  the  firmament,  she  had  rested  her  hand 
on  Helmer's  arm  .  .  .  and  the  feeling  of  calmness, 
of  refuge,  of  sweet  security,  which  had  come  over 
her.  Once  again,  now  that  the  interruption  caused 
by  Frau  Eleonore  was  past,  she  closed  her  eyes  and 

189 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tried  to  recall  her  former  sensation:  she  succeeded 
in  doing  so:  the  sense  of  refuge  and  security  was 
there  once  more,  and  sweetly  rang  the  words:  "A 
warm  house  and  a  loving  heart  in  it"  .  .  . 

"Dear  heart,"  she  murmured. 

Frau  Eleonore  stood  up:  "What  did  you  say?  Do 
you  wish  anything?" 

At  the  same  instant  a  groom  entered  and  brought 
a  great  gilded  basket  filled  with  Parma  violets.  A 
visiting-card  lay  in  it:  Prince  Victor  Adolph  von 
X . 

When  Helmer  took  his  departure,  Bruning  also 
bade  good-bye  to  the  little  luncheon  coterie  with  the 
intention  of  accompanying  his  friend. 

"You  still  owe  me  a  call,"  said  he;  "won't  you 
come  up  to  my  room  for  a  little  while?  No?  Then  let 
me  go  a  part  of  the  way  with  you.  How  did  you  like 
the  two  ladies?  Shall  I  tell  you  something  about 
them?" 

"I  'd  rather  hear  about  the  Italian  Minister — 
the  man  interests  me." 

"I  can  believe  it.  There  is  no  one  in  all  Europe 
more  interesting  at  the  present  time.  He  is  of 
the  clay  from  which  the  Cavours,  the  Talleyrands, 
the  Bismarcks,  and  the  Chamberlains  are  made. 
One  who  can  talk  fluently  of  future  events,  of  fer 
mentations  and  collisions,  because  he  himself  is  one 
who  causes  events  to  come,  who  ferments  and  col 
lides." 

"Oh,  is  that  so?" 

"  You  swear  by  that  school  which  does  not  believe 
190 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

in  the  power  of  individuals  to  influence  the  history 
of  nations?  It  is  your  idea,  that  the  nameless  masses, 
that  all-powerful  Necessity,  and  the  like,  condition 
the  course  of  history  ..." 

"There  you  are  again  with  your  'history.'  If  you 
mean  by  it  the  changes  that  result  from  universal 
conditions,  then,  certainly,  the  laws  of  nature  and 
the  nameless  masses,  unconsciously  obeying  them, 
form  the  motive  power ;  but  if  it  concerns  the  events 
that  are  brought  about  by  the  intrigues  of  diplo 
mats  and  despots  and  the  newspapers  that  are  sub 
servient  to  them,  then  I  grant  that  this  kind  of 
history  is  made  by  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  indi 
viduals." 

"Well,  then,  if  that  is  undersood,  my  Romeo 
Rinotti  is  just  a  history-maker.  'Unscrupulousness' 
is  his  fetish  ...  in  fact,  it  is  the  reasonable  basis  of 
all  real  politics.  Rinotti  is  not  as  yet  at  the  helm, 
else  a  portentious  chapter  in  the  history  of  our  cen 
tury  would  have  been  written  long  ago ;  but  he  will 
yet  come  to  the  helm,  and  then  .  .  .  well,  he  makes  no 
secret  of  the  lofty  aims  which  he  has  conceived  for  the 
grandeur  and  glory  of  his  country.  Whether  he  will 
attain  them  is,  indeed,  another  question;  I  have  my 
doubts ;  for  fortunately  we  in  Austria,  we  also  have 
resolute  men  in  leading  positions  ...  a  fine,  proud 
imperialism  has  flowered  since  Aehrenthal's  great 
stroke  of  genius;  and  our  military  strength,  as  well 
as  that  of  our  allies,  is  to  be  reckoned  with.  .  .  .  Our 
fleet  of  airships  also  makes  a  good  showing.  So  Ri- 
notti's  bold  plans  will  scarcely  be  fulfilled,  in  spite 
of  all  Slavic  assistance  .  .  .  but  whatever  the  con- 

191 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

sequences  may  be,  the  impulse  will  suffice,  as  I  said, 
to  produce  a  mighty  chapter  in  history.  I  must  say, 
although  the  man  is  really  our  enemy,  he  inspires 
me  with  respect,  because  of  his  powerful  will :  univer 
sal  history  needs  such  chaps.  At  the  same  time,  he 
is  a  fascinating  man.  .  .  .  The  women  are  all  crazy 
over  him  .  .  .  that  Baltic  woman,  for  example.  .  .  . 
Did  you  notice  how  her  eyes  were  riveted  on  him? 
If  the  Countess  Solnikova  has  not  fallen  under  his 
spell,  it  is  only  thanks  to  her  fancy  for  your  com 
poser.  .  .  .  But  here  I  am  chattering  away  and  you 
do  not  say  a  word  .  .  .  apparently  you  are  up  in 
the  clouds  again,  your  favorite  habitation,  and  prob 
ably  have  not  been  listening  to  what  I  said." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  have  been  listening  with  all 
attention.  What  you  tell  me  of  Rinotti  interests  me 
immensely.  It  proves  clearly,  once  more,  how  our 
official  world  is  still  entangled  in  the  ancient  con 
cepts  and  methods,  how  men  cannot  see  what  the 
needs  of  the  age  are.  They  do  not  suspect  that  the 
epoch  of  cabinet  intrigues  is  just  as  obsolete,  though 
not  so  far  removed  from  us,  as  the  Tertiary  or  the 
Miocene  period.  Or  are  we  really  still  in  the  very 
midst  of  it?  Am  I  the  one  who  does  not  see  the  actu 
ality,  because  my  eyes  are  fixed  too  eagerly  on  the 
future,  just  as  the  eyes  of  the  Rinottis  and  their  ad 
mirers  are  directed  toward  the  past?  However,  I 
am  very  grateful  to  you,  for  what  you  have  told  me 
shows  how  imperative  the  work  is  which  must  be  the 
outcome  of  the  Rose- Week." 

"You  incorrigible  visionary !  Do  you  really  im 
agine  that  Toker,  Helmer,  and  Company  are  going  to 

192 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

lift  the  world  out  of  its  hinges?  I  have  permitted  my 
self  to  compare  the  undertaking  of  this  worthy  firm 
to  Hagenbeck;  I  might  have  said  that  it  is  a  great 
cosmopolitan  variety-show  .  .  .  well,  I  am  curious; 
especially  for  your  number  on  the  programme:  — 
'  Mr.  Chlodwig  Helmer,  prestidigitator  on  the  poets' 
ladder.'  But  here  we  are  at  your  lodgings  —  I  will 
leave  you.  No  offense,  I  hope  ..." 

Helmer  shrugged  his  shoulders:  "I  know  you  of 
old,  and  if  I  am  inwardly  annoyed  at  your  cynicism, 
I  don't  lay  it  up  against  you." 

"And  I  likewise  pardon  you  for  calling  my  modi 
cum  of  common  sense  and  mother  wit  cynicism. 
Such  a  long-established  comradeship  is  n't  going  to 
be  broken  up  by  such  quizzing.  The  earth  would  be 
boresome  if  it  contained  nothing  but  mere  practical 
people  —  a  few  dreamers  must  be  allowed  to  prac 
tice  their  somnambulism.  Servus,  old  fellow." 

Bruning  said  good-bye  at  the  entrance  door  of  the 
Rose- Palace;  Helmer,  however,  did  not  go  in,  but 
walked  off  in  another  direction.  The  conversation 
with  his  boyhood  friend  had  given  a  serious  trend 
to  his  thoughts,  and  he  was  not  inclined  at  the  mo 
ment  to  meet  any  of  Mr.  Toker's  guests  and  converse 
with  them.  He  preferred  a  solitary  walk. 

He  knew  a  path  which  led  from  the  shore  of  the 
lake  to  a  distant  grove  where  it  was  very  silent  and 
pleasant:  thither  he  directed  his  steps.  He  had  often 
in  his  life  found  that  when  he  was  vexed  with  men  — 
either  with  individual  men  or  with  human  society  at 
large  —  he  was  immediately  pacified  by  taking  ref 
uge  with  Nature.  To  him  Nature,  the  mother  of  all 

193 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

creatures — Nature,  the  generous,  the  life-abounding, 
the  sublime,  the  unfathomable,  the  inexorable  keeper 
of  her  own  mysteries,  the  never  disobedient  servant 
of  her  own  laws,  the  spendthrift  and  miser  of  her  own 
treasures  —  to  him  Nature  was  not  some  thing,  but 
some  one.  A  some  one  whom  he  loved  with  awe 
and  whose  magical  gifts  he  accepted  as  the  token  of 
some  measure  of  reciprocal  love. 

He  strolled  for  some  distance  along  the  shore  of  the 
lake;  boats  large  and  small  were  darting  across  its 
mirror-like  surface.  Snow-capped  mountains  arose  in 
the  background.  Helmer  appreciated  the  imposing 
beauty  of  the  whole  landscape;  but  what  he  wanted 
to  find  was  a  retired,  circumscribed  spot  without  a 
broad  outlook,  without  the  effect  of  theatrical  deco 
rations  or  panoramic  views,  a  little  place,  where  he 
might  be  alone  with  a  few  trees  and  a  few  wild  flow 
ers.  So  he  turned  aside  into  a  narrow  path  between 
two  wooded  hills,  and  after  a  short  walk  entered  the 
dark,  cool  corner  which  he  was  looking  for.  There 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  worthy  of  being  called  "a 
splendid  region"  or  of  being  remarked  as  bearing 
a  characteristic  Swiss  flavor;  the  little  assemblage 
of  firs  and  birches,  of  oaks  and  beeches,  of  stunted 
bushes,  of  mossy  stones,  and  tall  grasses  might  have 
been  duplicated  in  any  other  place  in  Europe.  The 
sunlight  danced  in  the  lightly  waving  foliage  and  a 
delicious  perfume  of  gum  and  strawberries  filled  the 
air.  Blue  and  yellow  and  rose-colored  flowers  were 
blooming  all  about,  wooed  by  fluttering  white  butter 
flies.  Then  there  was  a  dreamily  monotonous  music 
of  humming  bees,  chirping  crickets,  and  murmuring 

194 


.WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

brooks,  now  and  then  interrupted  by  the  clear  call 
of  the  blackbird. 

Helmer  flung  himself  down  in  the  grass  at  the  foot 
of  a  leafy  beech  tree  and  —  breathed.  Really  he 
did  nothing  else  —  without  thoughts,  without  recol 
lections,  he  lay  there  awhile  and  merely  breathed. 
Long,  joyous  inhalations,  just  like  all  the  plant 
brethren  around  him,  the  life  of  which  is  scornfully 
called  "vegetating,"  although  it  is  perhaps  the  pur 
est  form  of  the  joy  of  existence.  He  contemplated 
a  tiny  beetle  which  was  climbing  laboriously  up  a 
swaying  blade  of  grass,  and  in  doing  so  lost  its  bal 
ance.  A  pair  of  very  industrious  ants,  laden  with 
building-materials,  hastened  by.  A  little  green  worm 
wriggled  circumspectly,  and  as  it  drew  its  tail  up  to 
its  head  it  made  an  arch,  then  stretched  itself  out 
again  in  order  to  make  another  —  a  complicated 
method  of  locomotion. 

Helmer  followed  with  friendly  eyes  all  these  move 
ments  which  seem  so  important  to  those  who  make 
them.  Also  a  beautiful  gift  of  Nature,  he  said  to  him 
self,  this  consciousness  of  importance  which  is  com 
mon  to  the  most  insignificant  little  creature,  and 
which  confers  upon  it  a  sort  of  dignity.  And  thus  he 
began  once  more  to  take  up  the  thread  of  thought. 
And  the  things  also  which  he  wanted  to  escape  from 
began  once  more  to  recur  in  his  mind :  all  the  scorn 
ful,  stupid,  harmful  conversation  of  all  those  people 
whose  judgments  and  behavior  lay  so  far  removed 
from  the  realm  toward  which  his  poetic  activities 
and  yearning  ran.  In  the  circle  of  the  Knighthood 
of  the  Rose,  to  be  sure,  he  had  found  kindred  spirits, 

195 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

all  working  like  himself  to  prepare  the  coming  king 
dom  ;  but  there  were  only  two  or  three  dozen  of  them, 
and  the  others  were  millions,  and  among  them  the 
very  ones  that  had  the  most  power  and  influence, 
rank  and  station  .  .  .  they  form  the  great  public  and 
we  ...  we  are  a  number  or  two  in  a  variety -show. 

He  shook  his  head.  No,  that  is  not  true.  We  also 
have  millions  behind  us  —  dumb,  yearning  millions, 
who  are  only  waiting  for  the  liberating  act.  The  liber 
ating  act,  however,  must  be  forestalled  by  the  liber 
ating  word  ...  so  let  us  first  say  just  what  we  have 
to  say. 

He  passed  in  review  the  scheme  of  his  poem.  Did 
it  express  everything  that  in  hours  of  inspiration 
swept  before  his  mind?  Alas,  no!  Far,  far  from  it  — 
there  still  remained  much  work  for  him  to  do.  The 
problems,  the  subjects  crowded  in  upon  him  — 
every  day  with  its  new  experiences  brought  new 
ideas.  Especially  this  last  week,  by  contact  with  the 
great  artists  and  thinkers,  who  surpassed  him  in  so 
many  ways,  so  many  new  horizons  had  opened  be 
fore  him.  It  was,  indeed,  a  marvelous  company. 
Franka  must  assuredly  be  grateful  to  him  that  she 
had  been  invited  to  be  present,  for  he  had  suggested 
to  her  the  career  which  she  had  so  brilliantly  fol 
lowed.  Franka  .  .  .  his  thoughts  dwelt  longer  at  this 
name,  at  the  picture  which  it  called  up.  How  con 
fidingly,  how  beseechingly,  as  if  asking  his  aid,  she  had 
clung  to  him.  ...  It  made  his  heart  glow.  He  was 
not  thinking  now  of  her  genius,  of  her  beauty,  but 
rather  of  that  helplessness  ...  oh,  if  he  could  only 
hold  her  in  his  arms  to  protect  her  and  to  comfort 

196 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

her.  .  .  .  Pshaw,  what  nonsense !  she  needed  no  pro 
tection;  she  was  a  wealthy,  influential  lady,  with 
everything  at  her  command.  Yesterday,  after  that 
brief  minute  on  the  terrace,  she  went  into  the  salon 
and  was  instantly  surrounded ;  that  prince  had  paid 
her  his  homage  most  openly.  And  such  a  handsome, 
seductive  man  that  Victor  Adolph  ...  If  she,  the 
proud  beauty,  wanted  to  have  a  love-affair,  what 
more  did  she  need  to  do  than  make  a  sign  in  order 
to  have  her  pick  among  the  highest,  the  most  dis 
tinguished?  .  .  .  "Can  it  be  that  I  am  jealous?  .  .  . 
No,  thank  God,  I  am  not  in  love  with  her;  one  does 
not  covet  the  stars.  I  will  even  advise  her  now  to 
think  of  her  own  happiness.  It  was  my  fault  to  a 
certain  degree  that  she,  so  Joan-of- Arc-like,  shut  her 
heart  up  in  an  iron  breastplate.  I  gave  her  that 
counsel,  that  terrible  counsel  .  .  ." 


CHAPTER  XV 

RINOTTI   AND    PRINCE   VICTOR  ADOLPH 

THE  MARCHESE  RINOTTI,  after  having  taken  his 
leave  of  the  Countess  Vera  and  her  cousin,  went  to 
his  room  to  see  whether  during  his  absence  any 
thing  had  come  to  him  by  mail  requiring  his  atten 
tion.  He  was  expecting  important  advices.  Although 
he  was  traveling  for  pleasure  and  recreation,  still  he 
kept  in  constant  touch  with  all  the  activities  of  his 
post,  and  even  here  was  working  in  the  business 
which  he  was  secretly  trying  to  further. 

He  was  in  a  highly  excited  state  of  mind.  The  news 
that  he  had  read  in  the  morning's  papers  indicated 
a  crisis  in  various  controversies,  the  obscuration  of 
certain  points  on  the  political  horizon ;  and  this  fur 
nished  a  favorable  field  for  his  plans.  What  espe 
cially  intensified  his  excitement  was  the  retrospect  of 
the  last  two  hours,  during  which  it  had  become  clear 
to  him  that  the  pretty  Baltic  widow  was  passionately 
in  love  with  him.  She  had  sat  next  him  at  table. 
Those  side  glances,  that  coquettish  smile,  aye,  even 
that  far  from  abrupt  drawing  back  of  her  little  foot 
when  he  had  accidentally  touched  it  with  his.  .  .  . 
Rinotti  was  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  triumph, 
but  it  always  delighted  him  to  see  the  evident  signs 
of  his  mastery  of  the  female  heart  —  a  double  tri 
umph,  because  he  no  longer  possessed  the  attractive 
power  of  youth;  —  therefore  it  must  be  really  some- 

198 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

thing  magnetic,  something  hypnotic  and  peculiar 
in  him  ...  or  was  it  merely  the  force  of  his  will,  of 
his  violent  desires?  There  is  nothing  like  violence; 
one  may  condemn  it  as  brutal  as  much  as  one  will 
—  therein  lies  strength  in  war  and  in  love.  With 
such  "Renaissance"  thoughts  he  took  up  his  bundle 
of  letters,  documents,  and  dispatches  which  were 
waiting  for  him  on  his  writing-table  and  now  set  to 
work  merrily. 

He  had  an  hour  and  a  half  free:  at  four  o'clock  he 
was  to  call  on  Prince  Victor  Adolph,  to  whom,  since 
he  was  a  royal  highness,  he  wanted  to  show  his  pro 
found  respect.  That  the  prince  belonged  to  a  country 
with  which,  according  to  Rinotti's  calculations,  a  con 
flict  was  imminent,  was  no  obstacle.  The  letters  in 
terested  him  intensely.  The  correspondents  whom  he 
had  delegated  in  England  and  France,  in  Germany 
and  Austria,  in  Russia  and  the  Balkans,  communi 
cated  to  him  details  of  all  kinds  of  transparent  in 
trigues  even  when  there  was  nothing  to  see  through, 
for  they  knew  his  predilections  for  diplomatic  subter 
fuges  and  underground  paths,  and  realized  that  their 
reports  would  be  regarded  as  all  the  more  sapient, 
the  more  they  discovered  evil  motives  concealed  be 
hind  all  political  transactions  and  demonstrations. 

Rinotti  jotted  down  on  a  sheet  of  paper  notes 
wherein  swarmed  a  profusion  of  references  to  move 
ments  of  troops,  blockades  of  boundaries,  commu 
niques,  airship  works,  and  the  like.  In  the  same 
breath  he  scribbled  on  another  sheet  of  paper  de 
tached  words  and  sentences  like  "  Splendid  creature," 
"lovely  one,"  "You  must  be  mine,"  "devouring 

199 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

fire,"  and  other  ingredients  of  a  glowing  billet  doux 
which  that  very  evening  he  proposed  to  slip  into 
Annette's  hands  at  the  Rose-Festival. 

In  the  mean  time  Victor  Adolph  was  expecting 
the  promised  visit.  He  was  sitting  on  his  balcony 
and  lying  back  comfortably  in  a  rocking-chair,  with 
a  book  in  his  hand  and  a  cigarette  between  his  lips. 
He  was  not  alone.  His  constant  attendant,  General 
von  Orell,  adjutant,  tutor,  compagnon  de  plaisir,  pa 
ternal  friend,  and  master  of  ceremonies,  all  in  one 
person,  was  resting  in  a  second  rocking-chair,  also 
engaged  in  smoking  and  reading.  Only  he  was  puffing 
a  strong  imported  cigar  and  was  reading  a  military 
aeronautical  journal. 

Victor  Adolph  glanced  up  from  his  reading :  "Why, 
he  is  a  real  poet,  this  Helmer.  .  .  .  You  ought  to  read 
'Schwingen,'  Orell,  since  you  are  so  much  interested 
in  aviation,  as  I  see  from  the  title-picture  of  your 
journal." 

The  general  politely  laid  his  journal  aside,  as  his 
prince  was  pleased  to  address  him. 

"Never  read  poems,  Your  Royal  Highness." 

"I  know  that,  you  are  too  'matter-of-fact'  for 
such  things." 

"Too  what?"  The  general  did  not  understand  the 
English  expression  used  by  the  prince. 

"Too  sober,  too  cold-hearted,  too  skeptical, 
too  .  .  ." 

"Too  prosaic.  Granted.  Dry  common  sense. 
Practical  mind.  I  flatter  myself." 

"What  news  in  your  journal?  Any  great  advance 
in  the  art  of  flying?" 

200 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Yes,  great  supplies  of  explosives  can  be  carried 
by  airships." 

"Really?  What  a  blessing.  .  .  .  Will  not  Signor 
Rinotti  be  here  shortly?" 

Orell  glanced  at  his  watch :  — 

"Quarter  of  an  hour." 

The  general  preferred  not  to  say  more  words 
than  were  necessary. 

"  Have  the  violets  been  sent  to  the  Rose-Palace?  " 

"Yes,  Your  Royal  Highness.  Pretty  girl.  But  a 
bluestocking.  .  .  .  Shame!" 

"  Fraulein  Garlett  does  not  give  the  impression  of 
being  a  bluestocking,  but  she  is  very  clever." 

"Women  should  not  be  clever." 

The  prince  laughed.  "  You  are  fearfully  vieuxjeu, 
my  dear  Orell." 

"Fearfully  what?" 

"Old-fashioned." 

"I  natter  myself;  hate  all  modern  follies.  Mod 
ern  technique,  especially  the  technique  of  arms,  also 
the  modern  mode  of  warfare  interests  me.  Your 
Royal  Highness  is  far  too  little  interested  in  such 
things.  Here  are  the  experiences  of  the  Russo- 
Japanese  campaign.  .  .  ." 

"I  know  them.  There  is  some  of  that  in  Vere- 
sayef's  'Recollections  of  a  Physician,'  and  in  Leonid 
Andreyef's  'Red  Laughter.'" 

"Your  Royal  Highness  reads  bad  books  with  the 
rest." 

"A  piece  of  genuine  good  fortune  that  my  royal 
father  has  not  commissioned  you  to  censor  my  read- 
ing." 

201 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"But  his  Majesty  recommended  me  to  procure 
useful  books  for  Your  Royal  Highness." 

"Yes,  yes;  those  dealing  with  military  science  and 
Byzantine  history.  But  I  throw  aside  all  such  rub 
bish." 

"And  read  socialistic  pamphlets." 

"What  if  I  do?  The  social  question  interests  me." 

"Me,  too.   Must  be  settled.   I  know  how  to." 

"Truly,  do  you  know  that?  Here  behold  me  all 
eagerness!  Tell  me  how." 

"Annihilate  the  whole  crowd." 

A  cloud  of  dissatisfaction  darkened  Victor  Adolph '  s 
face,  but  he  made  no  reply.  He  had  no  desire  to  be 
drawn  into  a  dispute.  Orell's  views  were  well  known 
to  him  and  he  avoided  as  far  as  possible  affording 
him  any  opportunity  of  expressing  them.  He  took 
up  his  book  again  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette.  Yet 
he  did  not  read;  he  only  let  his  mind  dwell  on  the 
theme  that  had  been  broached.  The  social  question 
really  interested  him  intensely,  and  not  superficially 
either ;  he  had  studied  the  thing  itself.  He  had  long 
been  secretly  a  subscriber  to  "  Vorwarts,"  and  many 
times  he  had  succeeded  in  smuggling  himself  into  the 
assemblies  of  the  local  labor  union,  and  once  he 
had  been  present,  unrecognized,  at  an  international 
congress  of  Socialists.  Not  everything  was  clear  to 
him  in  the  doctrinaire  aspects  of  the  question,  but 
deep  in  his  heart  he  was  on  the  side  of  those  who  are 
trying  to  obtain  for  the  masses  of  the  nations  the 
joys  and  dignities  of  life.  In  order  to  get  a  clear  no 
tion  of  the  battle  against  poverty,  he  would  have  had 
to  make  a  study  of  poverty  and  see  for  himself ;  and 

202 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

then  horrible  abysses  of  woe  would  have  opened  be 
fore  him;  abysses  of  which  people  of  his  class  and 
in  general  of  all  classes,  that  do  not  belong  to  the 
proletariat,  have  for  the  most  part  no  conception. 

And  one  thing  particularly  embittered  him:  the 
fearful  lack  of  comprehension  which  he  met  with 
when  he  merely  mentioned  the  subject  in  his  own 
circles.  No  one  seemed  to  have  an  idea  of  what  was 
at  issue.  Poverty?  Yes,  that  was  found  everywhere, 
but  it  always  had  existed  and  always  would  exist: 
there  is  no  remedy,  except  to  distribute  alms,  to 
establish  free  soup-kitchens,  and  so  on,  and  that  sort 
of  thing  is  provided  generously.  To  practice  charity 
is  certainly  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues,  and  a  host  of 
people,  notably  the  women  of  princely  families,  are 
in  the  front  ranks,  setting  a  good  example!  .  .  . 

Naturally,  there  are  also  discontented  people — the 
lazy  who  do  not  want  to  work  or  the  rascally  fellows 
who  are  always  after  higher  wages  in  order  to  have 
more  gin  to  drink.  But  especially  guilty  of  the  dis 
content  are  the  agitators,  the  so-called  leaders,  the 
mischief-making  demagogues.  Opposition  parties, 
revolutionary  parties,  —  such  have  always  been,  — 
and  the  only  remedy  against  them  is  iron  firmness. 
As  a  last  resort  one  always  has  the  military  to  pre 
serve  the  established  order.  Force  is  the  best,  indeed, 
the  only  security :  the  threat  of  armed  force  restrains 
the  rabble.  Without  this  wholesome  fear  the  Reds 
would  soon  be  on  hand  to  plunder  property-owners 
or  to  vote  that  all  property  should  be  shared  equally 
—  such  nonsense !  As  if  after  such  a  division  the 
industrious  and  the  clever  would  not  shortly  possess 

203 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

more  than  the  lazy  and  the  rascally,  and  then  there 
would  be  an  end  of  all  the  famous  equality  .  .  .  no, 
no,  those  are  idle  dreams.  .  .  .  Inequality  is  founded 
on  Nature. 

These  and  similar  phrases  Victor  Adolph  had  al 
ways  been  obliged  to  hear  when  Socialism  was  men 
tioned  in  his  environment.  With  especial  violence 
the  opponents  of  a  cause  always  succeed  in  demolish 
ing  the  postulates  that  are  never  put  forward  by  its 
advocates.  "Equal  division  of  property"  —  what 
Socialist  would  have  ever  demanded  such  a  thing? 
Public  possession,  State  possession  is  not  equally 
divided  possession  —  it  is  common  possession,  like 
the  air  we  breathe. 

The  prevalent  misconception  which  aroused  Vic 
tor  Adolph's  wrath  extended  not  only  to  the  nature 
of  the  social  movement,  but  also  to  its  progress. 
What  it  has  already  accomplished  in  organization, 
in  clearing  the  way,  what  it  is  on  the  point  of  doing, 
those  who  stand  aloof  do  not  know.  They  frequently 
talk  about  the  laws  of  nature,  but  only  to  draw  from 
them  the  conclusion  that  all  things  will  and  must 
remain  as  they  are.  And  they  are  ready  to  assist 
this  well-beloved  vis  inertia  with  laws  and  clubs 
and  cannon,  but  what  the  existing  circumstances, 
what  the  events  will  bring  forth  in  natural  conse 
quences;  —  they  have  no  notion  about  that.  With 
irresponsible  frivolity  they  let  come  what  may.  They 
see  nothing  of  the  approaching  flood;  should  there 
really  be  a  shower  or  two,  they  have  their  umbrellas 
ready. 

Victor  Adolph  had  not  himself  penetrated  far 
204 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

enough  into  the  domain  of  social  and  economic  af 
fairs  to  predict  how  the  movement  would  develop, 
but  he  followed  it  with  deep  sympathy,  and  was  im 
pelled  to  do  so  by  two  honorable  motives,  —  desire 
for  knowledge  and  love  for  his  fellow-men. 

The  prince  was  aroused  from  his  thoughts  by  the 
announcement  —  "His  Excellency,  Marchese  Ri- 
notti."  The  general  went  to  meet  the  visitor  and 
brought  him  to  the  prince.  After  the  first  ceremoni 
ous  greetings  had  been  exchanged,  obsequiously  on 
the  part  of  the  diplomat,  with  friendly  dignity  on  the 
part  of  the  prince,  the  prince  invited  the  marchese 
to  sit  down,  and  began  the  conversation  with  the 
question:  "  Is  it  decided  that  your  king  is  coming  here 
this  week?" 

"Yes,  Your  Royal  Highness,  in  three  days  His 
Majesty  will  arrive." 

"And  will  he  attend  the  exercises  in  the  Rose- 
Palace?" 

"That  is  his  intention." 

"A  great  honor  for  the  American,"  remarked  the 
general. 

The  prince  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Well,  I  doubt 
if  Mr.  Toker  has  so  much  awe  before  crowned  heads 
as  your  loyal  mind  ascribes  to  him,  my  dear  Orell." 

"I  have  my  doubts  as  to  that  point,  also,"  said 
Rinotti .  "Mr.  Toker  belongs  to  that  caste  of  moneyed 
potentates  who  regard  themselves  as  kings.  And  in 
a  certain  sense  they  are,  indeed,  for  they  wield  a 
dominion  over  a  monstrous,  a  sinister  power.  Old 
Europe  must  take  precious  good  care  of  her  prestige, 
must  stick  closer  than  ever  to  her  traditions,  if  she 

205 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

would  hold  her  own  against  the  spirit  of  Ameri 
canism." 

"That  is  a  vague  term,"  said  the  prince.  "What 
do  you  mean  by  'Americanism'?" 

Rinotti's  keen-cut  face  took  on  a  contemptuous 
expression.  "I  mean  by  it  stock-jobbery  and  wild 
quest  for  money ;  lack  of  ideality,  of  anything  roman 
tic,  of  heroism ;  their  poverty  in  historical  recollec 
tions  and  national  art  amply  accounts  for  this.  They 
have  nothing  of  all  that  which  constitutes  our  pride, 
which  enriches  and  ennobles  us:  ancient  monuments, 
cathedrals,  old  paintings,  famous  field-marshals,  il 
lustrious  families,  glorious  dynasties  of  rulers  —  all 
that  is  missing  to  the  New  World ;  and  what  can  it 
offer  in  their  place?  —  sky-scrapers,  gigantic  steel, 
meat,  and  oil  trusts,  California  gold-mines,  and  pos 
sibly  Niagara  Falls!  That  I  will  grant  as  the  one 
thing  poetic — but  in  everything  else  it  is  a  land  of 
mediocrity,  of  aridity,  of  the  barrenest  prose." 

The  general  nodded  his  assent:  "Quite  right." 

Victor  Adolph  angrily  crushed  his  cigarette  into 
theash-tray.  "You say, 'Quite right.'  I  say,' Quite 
false,'  essentially  false.  I  know  America.  You  do  not 
know  it.  I  spent  a  year  at  Harvard  University.  You 
have  no  conception  of  the  warmth  of  enthusiasm, 
of  the  generosity,  of  the  wide  outlook,  of  the  world- 
embracing  ideas — in  a  word,  of  the  lofty  ideals  which 
animate  that  free,  youthful-hearted  people  ..." 

"What  fire,  Your  Royal  Highness!"  exclaimed 
the  marchese.  "Your  own  youthful  enthusiasm  is 
speaking.  I  love  it  and  I  admire  it,  especially  in  a 
Northerner." 

206 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  prince  made  an  impatient  deprecatory  gesture 
with  his  hand.  "Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "that  the 
International  Agricultural  Institute  in  Rome,  the 
foundation  of  which  was  a  great  glory  for  King 
Victor  Emanuel  III,  because  it  is  intended  for  the 
service  and  advantage  of  all  men,  owes  its  origin  to 
an  American?  The  man's  name  was  Lubin.  He 
made  a  trip  to  Europe  on  purpose  to  bring  this  idea 
of  his  to  the  sovereigns;  with  your  king,  whose  mind 
is  open  to  grand  new  ideas,  he  found  appreciation 
and  support." 

"I  am  glad  Your  Royal  Highness  has  so  good  an 
opinion  of  my  sovereign.  I  hope  also  that  Italy 
under  his  scepter  will  continue  to  accumulate  stores 
of  glory.  My  country  faces  great  tasks  ..." 

"Undoubtedly,"  interrupted  Victor  Adolph;  "  for 
example,  the  amelioration  of  poverty  in  Sicily, 
the  drainage  of  all  malaria-producing  swamps,  the 
diminution  of  the  illiterate  .  .  .oh,  great  tasks  are 
to  be  performed  everywhere,  not  in  Italy  alone  ..." 

"In  America  as  well?"  asked  Rinotti  ironically. 

"Certainly,  in  America  as  well;  and  possibly  the 
example  will  be  given  us  from  there." 

The  prince  stood  up.  Rinotti  understood  this  to 
be  a  hint  that  the  interview  was  at  an  end :  he  also 
arose  and  took  a  ceremonious  farewell.  The  general 
accompanied  him  to  the  door  and  then  returned  to 
the  prince. 

"Desires  to  thank  you  again  for  your  gracious 
reception." 

"The  man  is  antipathetic  to  me,"  replied  the 
prince. 

207 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"He  is  false.  Intriguer.  Mind  full  of  mischief. 
That  is  evident.  Intends  to  play  our  ally  nasty 
tricks;  only  waiting  till  he  becomes  Prime  Minister. 
Then  things  will  explode!  Boundless  ambition.  Be 
lieves  that  with  the  Italian  airships  —  and  it  is  true 
they  are  swift  —  they  can  annihilate  Austria's  fleet. 
But  we  are  all  ready  for  him." 

"You  are  always  imagining  wars  and  rumors  of 
wars,  my  dear  Orell,  like  the  Old  Men's  chorus  in 
'  Faust.'  But  if  that  worthy  statesman  should  really 
have  such  notions  up  his  sleeve,  he  would  run  counter 
to  his  king's  desire  for  peace.  And,  moreover,  the 
Italian  people  have  some  sense." 

"What  is  that  —  the  people?" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   SIELENBURG  PARTY 

ELDERLY  ladies  of  the  Austrian  aristocracy  have 
no  great  inclination  for  traveling.  While  for  a  hun 
dred  years  it  has  been  the  fashion  in  England  to 
make  a  tour  on  the  Continent,  and  while  in  the  days 
of  mail-coaches,  noblewomen,  young  and  old,  were 
accustomed  to  accompany  their  spouses  to  Switzer 
land  and  to  Italy,  to  Paris  and  to  the  German  baths, 
the  ladies  of  the  Austrian  nobility  have  only  reluc 
tantly  quitted  their  castles  in  order  to  journey  to 
other  countries.  Since  traveling  has  been  made  so 
easy  and  expeditious,  especially  since  automobiles 
came  into  fashion,  the  younger  feminine  element  of 
the  higher  Austrian  circles  have  ventured  to  make 
trips  into  distant  lands.  But  even  at  the  time  of  the 
Rose- Week,  there  were  among  the  elder  aristocratic 
women  some  who  had  never  before  set  foot  outside 
the  boundaries  of  the  Empire.  Among  these  was 
the  Countess  Adele  Schollendorf .  But,  nevertheless, 
one  fine  June  morning  the  old  lady,  accompanied  by 
her  cousin  Albertine,  started  for  Lucerne.  Two  cava 
liers  also  made  up  the  party:  Cousin  Coriolan  and 
Baron  Ludwig  Malhof. 

The  motive  of  the  expedition  was  curiosity.  Count 
Sielen's  sister  had  become  quite  estranged  from  her 
grand-niece  since  the  latter  had  begun  to  appear  on 
the  public  platform.  The  affair  was  too  distasteful 

209 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  her  —  it  cut  entirely  across  all  her  prejudices. 
Franka  had,  indeed,  lost  nothing  in  reputation  and 
respect  by  her  action  —  on  the  contrary ;  but  the 
old  countess  could  not  be  reconciled  to  it.  She  did 
not  go  so  far  as  to  indulge  in  open  reproach  and 
rupture,  being  restrained  by  the  fact  that  she  was 
indebted  to  Franka's  generosity  for  her  home  at  the 
Sielenburg  and  the  considerable  revenues  accruing 
from  this  property;  but  she  had  renounced  all  per 
sonal  intercourse,  which  was  the  easier,  because 
Franka,  on  her  part,  took  no  pains  to  maintain  it. 
For  no  money  in  the  world  would  the  Countess 
Adele  have  consented  to  attend  the  young  girl's 
lecture  in  Vienna.  A  connection  —  a  person  with 
the  Sielen  blood  in  her  veins  —  on  the  platform, 
speaking  in  favor  of  the  emancipation  of  women! 
Horrible!  But  when  one  day  Baron  Malhof  brought 
the  news  that  Franka  Garlett  had  been  invited  to 
take  her  place  with  the  greatest  celebrities  of  the  day 
at  the  Rose- Week  celebration,  —  and  he  described 
the  Toker  Rose- Week  with  enthusiasm,  having  him 
self  been  present  at  one,  —  the  old  countess's  curi 
osity  was  awakened:  "I  should  like  to  see  it,"  she 
exclaimed. 

"Then  let  us  go  there,"  proposed  Malhof.  And  he 
argued  so  eloquently  that  the  countess  decided  to 
take  the  journey  — the  first  she  had  ever  made  out 
of  her  own  country.  There,  so  far  away,  she  might, 
indeed,  endure  to  see  Franka  on  the  platform;  only 
at  home,  among  all  her  relatives  and  acquaintances, 
it  would  have  been  too  painful.  But  there  —  "there  " 
being  somewhat  confused  in  her  mind  with  the  an- 

210 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tipodes  —  one  was,  so  to  speak,  incognito.  Albertine 
consented  to  accompany  her  cousin,  although  the 
expedition  seemed  to  her  very  portentous  and  ad 
venturous;  but,  possibly,  she  might  have  the  oppor 
tunity  of  telling  this  Franka,  who  had  so  uncere 
moniously  slipped  out  from  under  her  influence,  a 
few  verities  which  would  redound  to  her  advan 
tage. 

Cousin  Coriolan  joined  the  party  from  the  purpose 
of  studying  into  the  ''humbug."  .  .  .  Toker  was  a 
fool,  and  the  whole  affair  was  a  piece  of  modern 
sham.  Baron  Malhof,  widely  experienced,  offered 
his  services  as  marshal  for  the  journey:  to  engage 
lodgings,  to  see  to  the  luggage,  to  act  as  cicerone, 
and  in  general  to  superintend  all  the  details  of  the 
trip.  But  when  he  suggested  making  the  journey 
to  Lucerne  in  an  airship,  Countess  Adele  protested 
with  horror. 

They  arrived  the  evening  before  the  exercises 
were  to  begin ;  they  had  enjoyed  a  good  night's  sleep, 
and  were  now  sitting  at  their  breakfast-coffee  in  the 
dining-room.  They  were  glancing  through  the  news 
paper,  to  find  what  announcements  were  made 
about  the  coming  performances:  but  all  they  found 
were  the  list  of  Toker's  guests,  and  the  statement 
that  the  same  motto  should  serve  for  all  the  ad 
dresses:  "When  thoughts  will  soar  ..." 

"I  am  curious  to  know  what  that  means,"  mut 
tered  Coriolan ;  "probably  a  kind  of  preaching  about 
all  sorts  of  high-flying,  so  called  Ideals.  It  may  be 
very  edifying,  but  not  very  exciting." 

"As  far  as  I  can  judge  of  you,  my  dear  Coriolan," 
211 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

said  Malhof,  "you  would  be  neither  excited  nor 
edified  by  the  things  which  are  to  be  heard  here. 
Just  as  the  American  and  the  operatic  host  which 
he  has  invited  are  the  representatives  of  the  latest 
and  boldest  ideas,  so  you  .  .  ." 

Countess  Adele  interrupted:  "Well,  if  Franka's 
emancipation  absurdities  are  to  be  called  soaring. 
.  .  .  This  honey  is  famous  —  taste  it,  Baron  Malhof; 
and  this  crisp-toasted  bread  ...  it  seems  to  me  the 
Swiss  are  used  to  an  abundant  breakfast." 

"Kipfel  are  best  with  coffee,"  remarked  Albertine 
ecstatically. 

Coriolan  nodded  assent.  "  But  Gugelhupf  has  some 
claim  upon  us,"  he  added. 

"We  have  wandered  far  from  high-soaring 
thoughts  again,"  remarked  Baron  Malhof. 

Countess  Adele  spread  some  more  honey  on  her 
toast.  "I  'm  curious  to  see  how  Franka  looks  ..." 

"  Probably  prettier  than  ever  —  she  is  a  ravishing 
creature  ..." 

"What  fire,  Baron  Malhof!" 

"Yes,  I  confess,  Fraulein  Garlett  was  my  last 
flame.  .  .  .  Oh,  not  a  very  creditable  story,  as  far 
as  I  was  concerned.  I  tried  to  —  well,  never  mind 
what  I  tried  —  but  she  gave  me  a  pretty  rebuff.  As 
to  emancipation,  as  you  keep  saying,  Countess, 
nothing  of  that  could  be  seen  in  her.  A  virtuous 
maiden  of  the  old-fashioned  model  ..." 

"Excuse  me,  but  in  order  to  resist  you  ..." 

"One  need  not  be  so  very  virtuous  —  were  you 
going  to  say,  Madam?  That  is  true,  but  the  cir 
cumstances  under  which  I  was  repulsed,  and  the 

212 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

way  in  which  she  did  it,  certainly  indicated  the  much- 
praised  '  fundamental  principles.' " 

"  Don't  you  approve  of  them?" 

"I  never  have,  most  gracious  Countess." 

"I  know,  I  know;  you  have  the  reputation  of 
having  been  a  genuine  Don  Juan.  However,  as 
far  as  Franka  is  concerned,  she  seems  to  have 
kept  her  head.  In  spite  of  this  adventurous  life  — 
this  gallivanting  about  and  making  speeches,  noth 
ing  discreditable  has  ever  been  charged  against 
her." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  her." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Well,  if  one  hears  nothing  bad  about  a  young 
woman,  it  means  that  nothing  pleasant  has  hap 
pened  to  her." 

"You  are  a  terrible  man!  Albertine,  we  ought 
never  to  have  trusted  ourselves  to  his  escort!" 

The  old  maid  did  not  understand  the  joke.  "Why 
not?"  she  asked  earnestly.  "He  is  certainly  a  very 
respectable  gentleman.  But  do  you  know,  Baron 
Malhof,  I  should  like  to  give  you  one  piece  of  ad 
vice:  you  ought  not  to  comb  your  back  hair  over 
your  bald  spot.  Excuse  my  frankness ;  but  it  is  not 
at  all  becoming  to  you." 

The  baron  nervously  and  awkwardly  moved  his 
hand  over  the  place  to  which  such  invidious  atten 
tion  had  been  called.  "Good  Heavens !  One  does  the 
best  one  can  ..." 

"Oh,  you,  with  your  everlasting  frankness,"  ex 
claimed  the  countess  reprovingly. 

Coriolan  went  on  reading  his  newspaper.  "Here 
213 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

among  the  names  of  the  Rose  comedians  stands  that 
of  a  Herr  Helmer;  wasn't  that  fool  Jew,  who  was 
Eduard's  last  secretary,  named  Helmer?" 

"Yes,  that  was  his  name,"  replied  Countess 
Adele.  "  But  he  was  n't  a  Jew." 

"Well,  his  maternal  grandmother  was  Jewish, 
and  that  is  pretty  much  the  same  thing." 

"So  was  our  common  ancestor  Adam,"  said  Mal- 
hof  angrily.  "  Especially  here,  in  this  free  and  dem 
ocratic  Switzerland,  you  should  not  assume  that 
tone.  Here  one  must  not  brag  too  much  of  race 
and  rank." 

A  wrathful  scowl  contracted  the  brows  of  the 
haughty  aristocrat.  "I  certainly  shall  speak  my 
mind.  Democracy  does  not  impose  on  me.  Besides, 
here,  in  Switzerland  there  are  a  few  very  good  old 
families,  even  if  they  don't  have  titles.  For  instance, 
there  are  the  Hallwyls;  only  recently  I  subscribed 
for  their  coat  of  arms  for  my  collection ;  .  .  .  and 
then,  in  our  own  country,  thank  God,  the  nobility 
still  means  something  —  it  is  the  mainstay  of  the 
throne,  the  support  of  the  faith  —  what  do  I  care 
for  Switzerland?" 

"  I  beg  of  you,  Coriolan,  do  not  lose  your  temper," 
said  the  Countess  Adele  soothingly,  "and  don't 
talk  so  loud.  What  were  we  just  speaking  about? 
Oh,  yes,  that  Helmer  ...  I  wonder  if  it  is  the  same 
man?" 

Malhof  signified  with  a  nod  that  he  was:  " He  has 
become  a  famous  poet  and  has  been  a  frequent  vis 
itor  at  the  Garlett  palace." 

"So-o-!"  exclaimed  the  countess.  "That  is  cer- 
214 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tainly  not  safe.  The  young  man  was  in  love  with 
Franka.  That  is  the  reason  Eduard  dismissed  him. 
And  he  has  become  so  famous  since?" 

"It  certainly  does  not  take  much  to  make  a  per 
son  famous  nowadays,"  remarked  Coriolan.  "No 
longer  are  there  any  more  classical  poets.  And  as  to 
fame  —  that  is  something  that  belongs  only  to  great 
men,  great  field-marshals  and  statesmen.  Prince 
Eugene,  Wallenstein,  Metternich,  the  Archduke 
Karl,  Radetzky  —  those  are  names  haloed  with 
glory.  No  such  are  to  be  found  in  this  list." 

"Don't  you  count  great  poets  also?"  asked  Mal- 
hof. 

"Well,  the  classics,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned  — 
Goethe  and  Schiller." 

"With  the  best  will  in  the  world,  Mr.  Toker  could 
not  invite  them.  But  who  knows  whether  there 
may  not  be  a  future  Schiller  or  Goethe  among  the 
guests?" 

Coriolan  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully.  "  In 
this  wretched  age  of  ours  there  are  no  more  great 
men  —  either  poets  or  heroes.  All  these  suspicious 
elements,  this  Socialism  and  Freemasonry  must  be 
cleaned  out  once  and  for  all.  Authority  must  be  set 
up  again  and  the  people  must  have  religion.  Per 
haps  it  will  be  better  after  the  next  war  —  such  a 
steel  bath  is  mighty  wholesome  ..." 

"Can't  you  leave  off  discussing  politics,  cousin?" 
sighed  the  countess.  "Fortunately,  nothing  is  said 
now  about  war." 

"Do  you  think  so?  This  proves  that  you  read 
nothing  in  the  newspapers  except  gossip  and  the 

215 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

society  news,  and  not  the  political  part;  otherwise 
you  would  know  that  war  is  coming,  and  very  soon, 
too.  Do  you  imagine  we  shall  much  longer  endure 
the  gibes  of  the  mischief-makers  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Adriatic,  and  don't  you  know  how  in  the  Bal 
kans  they  are  only  waiting  their  opportunity  to 
found  a  Great  Servia?  Austria  will  come  out  of  a 
war  with  such  an  increase  of  power  that  it  will  be 
able  to  settle  its  internal  affairs  on  a  satisfactory 
basis.  And  in  the  rest  of  Europe?  The  tension  is 
everywhere  so  great  —  who  knows  but  before  this 
so-called  Rose-Week  shall  end,  the  canister  will 
begin  to  rattle  somewhere?" 

"There,  now!  that  will  do,"  cried  the  old  countess. 
"  You  are  a  horrible  bird  of  evil  omen !  It  is  n't  true, 
is  it,  Malhof,  that  things  are  so  bad?" 

"I  am  no  prophet.  I  grant  that  we  are  standing 
on  volcanic  ground,  but  I  believe  that  it  will  be  a  rev 
olution  sooner  than  a  war.  It  must  come  to  a  finan 
cial  crash  if  things  go  on  as  they  are — to  strikes, 
general  strikes  —  how  do  I  know?  —  or  to  an  open 
revolt.  .  .  .  But  let  us  talk  of  other  things.  Let  us 
hope  that  everything  will  come  out  all  right.  Apres 
nous  le  deluge!  In  the  mean  time,  ladies,  I  propose 
that  in  half  an  hour  we  set  forth  to  have  a  little 
glimpse  of  Lucerne.  I  will  immediately  order  a 
carriage.  First  of  all,  I  will  take  you  past  the  build 
ings  of  the  Rose-Palace.  You  must  see  how  fairy- 
like  it  all  is.  Even  two  years  ago,  when  I  was  here, 
it  was  dazzling  in  its  magnificence.  Since  then  I 
understand  Mr.  Toker  has  introduced  still  further 
embellishments  and  surprises.  I  have  already  pro- 

216 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

cured  the  entrance  cards  for  the  opening  exercises 
this  evening.  This  forenoon  we  will  spend  in  explor 
ing  Lucerne.  But  Coriolan,  you  must  take  an  oath 
that  you  will  not  say  another  word  about  politics  as 
long  as  we  are  on  our  pleasure  trip." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   OPENING   NIGHT 

THE  exercises  began  at  half -past  seven  in  the  even 
ing  ;  so  at  that  time  of  the  year  it  was  still  broad  day 
light.  The  public  was  admitted  to  the  grounds  flanked 
with  pillared  halls,  spreading  out  from  the  lake  to 
the  palace  and  covering  a  wide  stretch  behind  it. 
Here  there  was  unrestrained  freedom  of  movement. 
Thus  the  festival  began  like  a  large  garden-party. 

Mr.  Toker,  his  daughter,  and  his  celebrated 
guests,  recognizable  by  the  rosebud  fastened  to  the 
breast,  circulated  among  the  others.  An  automatic 
orchestrion,  consisting  of  instruments  like  the  organ 
and  the  harmonium,  played  by  electricity,  and  con 
cealed  behind  trees,  filled  the  place  with  delicate 
harmonies,  ringing  like  the  music  of  the  spheres. 
The  fountains  played,  and  in  their  lofty  columns  of 
water  glittered  fiery  red  the  rays  of  the  sinking  sun. 
In  the  air  flying-machines  like  birds  or  dragon-flies 
performed  artistic  evolutions.  Suddenly  arose  a 
balloon  with  an  aeronaut  costumed  like  the  god 
Mars:  from  the  basket  two  big  guns  were  pointed 
threateningly  toward  the  earth.  This  uncanny  in 
strument  of  war  rose  to  a  great  height,  followed  by 
the  eyes  and  the  shouts  of  the  spectators.  Some 
shouts  of  disapprobation  mingled  with  the  others, 
for  there  were  many  in  the  throng  who  felt  disturbed 
by  being  reminded  of  the  terrors  of  battles  in  the 

218 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

midst  of  a  peaceful  festival.  It  is  true,  men  have 
been  accustomed  to  the  military  maneuvers  attract 
ing  eager  crowds  to  watch  them,  and  at  the  world 
expositions  the  military  pavilion  has  always  proved 
to  be  a  great  drawing-card.  But  here,  at  this  festival 
of  human  exaltation,  —  celebrated  under  the  symbol 
of  the  queen  of  flowers,  —  they  were  really  not  pre 
pared  for  the  sight  of  cannon.  But  the  slight  dis 
satisfaction  soon  resolved  into  pleasure,  when  from 
the  mouth  of  the  threatening  guns,  instead  of  shells, 
fresh  rose-leaves  were  discharged  over  the  throng, 
and  on  their  descent  to  the  earth  fluttered  about  in 
the  air  like  butterflies.  There  was  universal  applause. 
Even  a  great  cannon-founder  who  was  among  the 
spectators,  and  who  had  recently  signed  very  ad 
vantageous  contracts  with  several  governments  for 
the  delivery  of  balloon  guns  and  of  vertical  cannon, 
clapped  his  hands  with  the  rest.  One  must  be  ready 
to  understand  a  joke;  .  .  .  the  successful  cannon- 
king  scarcely  suspected  with  what  deep  seriousness 
Mr.  Toker  prepared  all  the  graceful  details  of  his 
work. 

The  little  coterie  of  Austrian  travelers  were  among 
those  present.  But  as  both  of  the  old  ladies  were  too 
weary  to  wander  about,  they  took  seats  in  one  of  the 
marquees  which  had  been  pitched  in  the  grounds. 
Coriolan  stayed  with  them,  but  Malhof  went  out  to 
mingle  with  the  promenaders.  He  had  hardly  taken 
two  steps  ere  he  fell  in  with  Franka,  who  happened 
to  be  going  in  the  direction  of  the  marquee  where 
her  relatives  were  sitting.  Malhof  stopped  in  front 
of  her:  — 

219 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Your  very  humble  servant,  Fraulein  Garlett. 
Do  you  remember  me?" 

Franka  offered  him  her  hand.  "Certainly,  Baron 
Malhof.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  meet  with  a  fellow- 
countryman." 

"Pray  do  not  hasten  on.  You  have  no  idea  who 
is  sitting  in  the  next  marquee  .  .  .  you  must  not 
meet  them  without  being  forewarned  ..." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"That  I  must  prepare  your  mind  for  by  slow  de 
grees.  Let  us  walk  for  a  few  moments  in  the  oppo 
site  direction  and  talk  about  old  times.  May  I  offer 
you  my  arm?" 

Franka  accepted.  "  You  are  really  comical,  Baron 
Malhof.  Old  times !  We  can  scarcely  be  said  to  share 
youthful  recollections.  .  .  .  We  have  met  just  twice, 
and  the  first  time  certainly  under  rather  painful 
circumstances.  The  second  time  at  Sielenburg  was 
more  agreeable." 

"Well,  now  it  must  be  agreeable,  too.  What  a 
change  has  taken  place  in  your  fate,  Fraulein  Franka ! 
First,  a  poor  deserted  orphan;  next,  one  of  the 
wealthiest  heiresses  in  the  country;  and  now,  in  addi 
tion,  a  European  reputation!  And  as  beautiful  as 
ever  .  .  .  yet  your  features  have  changed  .  .  .  there  is 
something  melancholy  in  your  face.  Are  you  happy  ? ' ' 

"Forever  that  question!   Must  one  be  happy?" 

"Yes,  one  must  if  circumstances  permit  it,  as  in 
your  case  they  do  —  rather,  demand  it.  Or  are  you 
cast  down  by  an  unhappy  love-affair?" 

Franka  laughed.  "No,  I  am  not  in  love  with  any 
one." 

220 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Well,  that  is  certainly  a  misfortune.  Your  laugh 
did  not  ring  merrily.  I  can  easily  imagine  that  a  hun 
dred  opportunities  were  open  to  you,  and  perhaps 
for  that  very  reason  you  do  not  want  to  marry,  and 
you  are  not  so  far  from  wrong.  .  .  .  Freedom  is  a 
fine  thing.  But  have  you  no  lover?" 

"Truly,  Baron  Malhof,  you  are  .  .  ." 

" Oh,  do  not  scold  me!  On  the  reef  of  your  virtue 
all  the  accumulated  wisdom  of  my  life  goes  to  ship 
wreck.  But  this  time  I  am  preaching  unselfishly, 
and  the  text  of  my  sermon  is:  Do  not  let  your  youth 
pass  in  vain;  don't  cheat  your  heart  and  your  tem 
perament  of  their  rights.  You  did  not  come  into  the 
world,  blest  with  beauty,  wealth,  and  independence, 
to  waste  all  these  treasures,  and  bluestocking  your 
self  merely  for  women's  rights'  tournees  like  any  ugly 
old  maid.  You  must  live,  Fraulein  Garlett — live! " 

Franka  stopped  walking  and  withdrew  her  arm: 
"You  are  incorrigible.  This  is  in  the  style  of  that 
letter  of  yours  .  .  .  but  I  am  not  making  a  show  of 
insulted  virtue,  it  is  insulted  independence.  What  I 
do,  and  what  I  leave  undone,  is  not  your  affair.  You 
cannot  look  into  my  soul ;  you  cannot  know  what  I 
understand  by  living." 

Baron  Malhof  put  on  a  contrite  expression:  "I 
have  been  at  fault  again,  I  see.  I  was  trying  to  give 
good  advice  and  I  get  a  lesson.  Forgive  me!" 

Franka  took  his  arm  again:  "  Now,  tell  me,  please, 
what  mischief  lurks  in  the  tent,  from  the  neighbor 
hood  of  which  you  have  led  me." 

"  How  good  of  you  to  be  genial  again !  In  the  tent 
sit  your  two  aunts  and  Cousin  Coriolan." 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Certainly  no  joyful  surprise  showed  itself  in 
Franka's  face.  "Aunt  Adele  and  Aunt  Albertine? 
How  did  they  happen  to  come  here?" 

"To  tell  the  honest  truth,  I  persuaded  them  to 
take  the  journey.  You  will  forgive  me  for  that, 
too?" 

"I  will  go  this  minute  and  greet  my  aunts." 

Franka  made  the  best  of  a  bad  business.  It  was 
really  disagreeable  to  her  to  meet  again  those  three, 
especially  here  in  this  place,  where  a  spirit  prevailed 
which  could  not  fail  to  be  incomprehensible  to 
them;  .  .  .  however,  when  all  was  said,  they  were 
her  people.  Her  people?  What  a  false  expression. 
How  little  she  belonged  to  them.  "To  whom  do  I 
belong,  I'd  like  to  know?"  Franka  asked  herself 
and  a  chill  crept  around  her  heart.  .  .  . 

"  Really,  then,  you  are  willing  to  be  precipitated 
head  over  heels  into  the  inevitable?  That  is  true 
courage!" 

A  few  minutes  later  the  two  entered  the  marquee. 
The  meeting  was  rather  stiff  and  constrained.  Their 
paths  had  gone  so  far  asunder!  And,  moreover,  they 
had  never  been  so  very  congenial.  There  was  an 
exchange  of  greetings,  but  no  heartiness  could  be 
felt  or  feigned ;  then  they  talked  indifferently  of  the 
journey,  of  the  festival  week,  and  the  like.  Countess 
Adele  invited  Franka  to  sit  down  with  them. 

"Tell  us  how  things  are  going  with  you  and  what 
you  are  doing.  Do  you  speak  this  evening?" 

"No,"  replied  Franka,  as  she  took  a  seat  beside 
her  aunts.  "I  do  not  give  my  address  until  to 
morrow." 

222 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"And  do  you  not  feel  alarmed?  It  is  incompre 
hensible  to  me  what  you  are  doing.  .  .  .  Tell  me,  is 
the  Helmer  who  is  here,  the  one  ..." 

Franka  anticipated  the  question:  "Yes,  grand 
papa's  former  secretary.  He  has  grown  to  be  a 
world-famous  poet." 

"  I  should  never  have  believed  it  of  him,"  remarked 
Albertine. 

"And  I  should  never  have  believed  that  you,  my 
respected  aunts,  would  ever  dream  of  such  a  thing 
as  making  a  journey  to  the  Rose-Festival.  I  really 
believe  you  were  never  out  of  Austria.  Did  you  come 
in  an  airship?" 

"That  would  be  the  last  thing!"  cried  Countess 
Adele  with  horror.  "I  would  never  go  in  such  a 
machine  as  long  as  I  lived.  .  .  .  What  has  become  of 
your  companion?" 

"Frau  von  Rockhaus?   Oh,  she  is  still  with  me." 

"That  is  good.  One  must  always  have  a  regard 
to  appearances." 

Malhof  sighed.  "Oh,  appearances!  Besides,  they 
are  all  out  of  style." 

After  a  while  Franka  got  up.  "Well,  I  must  be 
going.  .  .  .  We  shall  meet  again  in  the  hall.  The 
speeches  will  soon  begin." 

"Really,"  said  Coriolan,  "I  am  quite  curious  to 
see  this  wild  show." 

A  little  later  a  fanfare  gave  the  signal  that  the 
festival  was  to  be  formally  opened  in  the  theater-hall. 
Thither  flocked  all  the  visitors  scattered  throughout 
the  grounds. 

It  was  an  immense  hall  with  boxes  and  galleries. 
223 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Yet  the  parquet  was  not,  as  in  regular  theaters, 
filled  with  rows  of  seats  placed  regularly,  but  was 
like  a  great  salon,  in  which  a  multitude  of  sofas  and 
armchairs  were  distributed  about  at  haphazard,  sep 
arated  by  screens  and  flowering  plants,  with  rooms 
enough  for  people  to  pass  from  one  group  to  another. 
Behind  the  boxes  were  wide  lobbies,  available  for 
that  part  of  the  public  that  did  not  care  to  listen  to 
any  particular  address,  either  because  its  subject 
was  not  interesting  or  because  it  was  delivered  in  a 
language  not  understood.  There  was  no  curtain 
hung  in  front  of  the  stage,  which  was  really  not  a 
stage,  but  rather  a  podium  or  platform.  This  podium 
formed  a  second  smaller  salon  with  steps  leading 
down  into  the  parquet.  There,  on  the  upper  level, 
were  grouped  Mr.  Toker  and  all  his  illustrious  guests, 
sitting  and  standing.  In  front  was  a  small  reading- 
desk  with  a  chair. 

Throughout  the  hall  there  was  much  to  make  it 
evident  that  here  also  was  the  realm  of  roses.  The 
upholstery  of  the  furniture  and  the  fronts  of  the 
boxes  were  of  pink  velvet,  and  by  an  electric  appa 
ratus  a  pale  rose  glow  was  everywhere  disseminated. 
A  hidden  ventilator  provided  the  place  with  cool, 
rose-perfumed  air.  No  chandelier  was  suspended 
from  above,  but  the  ceiling  simulated  the  sky  popu 
lated  with  electric  lights,  distributed  like  stars  and 
nebulae,  —  an  accurate  copy  of  a  segment  of  the 
universe.  Between  the  first  row  of  boxes  and  the 
gallery  was  placed  a  wreath  of  medallion-portraits 
of  great  departed  poets,  savants,  inventors,  and  dis 
coverers  from  Vergil  to  Shakespeare  and  to  Goethe ; 

224 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

from  Aristotle  to  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  and  then  to 
Darwin ;  from  Columbus  to  Gutenberg  and  to  Mont- 
golfier.  Under  the  pictures  the  names  sparkled 
with  electric  letters.  In  the  center  a  little  struc 
ture  which,  from  the  hall  looked  like  a  prompter's 
box,  concealed  a  phonograph  apparatus  to  make  a 
permanent  record  of  the  speaker's  words. 

A  signal  rang  out;  Toker  stepped  to  the  front 
of  the  platform,  and  soon  expectant  silence  pre 
vailed  in  the  hall.  In  a  loud  voice,  but  in  simple, 
conversational  manner  and  in  English  Toker  began 
to  speak :  — 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen!  A  hearty  welcome  to 
you  all.  I  see  in  the  hall  many  of  the  habitues  of  the 
Lucerne  Rose- Weeks,  yet  also  many  new  faces.  To 
the  new  visitors  I  should  like  to  tell  in  a  few  words 
the  purpose  of  our  establishment:  It  is  a  centraliza 
tion  of  forces,  a  great  dynamo-machine.  For  what 
is  offered  to  you  here  in  this  limited  place  is  meant 
for  the  millions  outside,  and  is  to  be  carried  to 
the  greatest  distances,  to  be  distributed  among  the 
working-people,  and  to  be  brought  before  the  mighti 
est  rulers.  A  number  of  the  noblest  spirits  among 
our  contemporaries  are  working  together  here.  Each 
one  brings  a  significant  portion  of  the  results  of  his 
thinking,  his  poetry,  his  investigations,  of  his  crea 
tions;  and  all  with  the  same  aim,  with  the  same  end 
in  view :  —  the  progress  of  society  toward  greater 
righteousness  and  greater  freedom,  toward  greater 
beauty  and  greater  happiness.  It  is  already  recog 
nized  that  what  lifts  men  from  barbarism  to  human 
ity  is  the  work  of  growing  intelligence,  which  awak- 

225 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ens  the  will  toward  goodness.  This  will  animates  us 
here.  And  therefore  I  beg  you  to  listen  to  the  com 
ing  addresses  not  only  with  friendly  attention,  but 
also  with  some  reverence.  Wherever  men  assemble 
for  the  purpose  of  elevating  their  thoughts  into  high 
regions,  and  of  allowing  their  hearts  to  beat  in  good 
will  for  their  fellow-creatures,  there  is  a  kind  of 
temple.  I  now  will  allow  Music  to  speak." 

Toker  bowed  and  stepped  back.  Now  followed  the 
performance  of  the  Rose-Quintette,  directed  by  the 
composer,  the  gifted  young  Pole,  himself.  After  it 
was  finished,  not  only  the  Russian  countess,  but  the 
whole  assemblage  broke  out  into  a  delirium  of 
enthusiasm.  "There,"  exclaimed  Countess  Vera  to 
Rinotti,  who  sat  near  her,  "is  n't  that  as  much  a 
triumph  as  a  victorious  battle?" 

"It  is  a  battle,  and  the  victor  is  named  Melody," 
replied  the  marchese. 

Next,  the  great  French  author  went  to  the  desk 
and  read  a  chapter  from  his  last  (as  yet  unprinted) 
book.  It  was  entitled  "La  Verite,  toute  la  Verite, 
rien  que  la  Verite."  Full  of  bold  thought,  of  keen 
wit,  of  sparkling  turns  of  speech,  it  was  a  bundle 
of  new  truths  delivered  to  the  auditors,  and  at  the 
same  time  it  was  an  unmasking  of  the  lies  that  sub 
jugate  human  society.  This  reading  was  followed  by 
an  intermission  devoted  to  social  intercourse,  while 
the  two  circles,  the  audience  and  the  performers, 
mingled  together. 

Prince  Victor  Adolph  mounted  the  steps  leading 
to  the  platform  and  approached  Franka:  "Shall  we 
not  hear  you  to-day,  Miss  Garlett?" 

226 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"No,  Your  Highness;  my  turn  comes  to-morrow 
—  but  I  am  already  beginning  to  feel  anxious." 

"You  feel  anxious!  Yet  you  are  accustomed  to 
speak  before  crowded  houses." 

"  But  not  before  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people. 
This  fearful  machine"  —  she  indicated  the  phono 
graph  in  the  prompter's  box  —  "will  carry  our 
words  before  that  number." 

"Whether  a  thousand  or  a  hundred  thousand  — 
is  n't  it  all  the  same?" 

"Oh,  no,  the  thousand,  who  come  of  their  own 
free  will  to  listen  to  an  address,  belong  to  a  certain 
stratum  of  society,  and  are  all  animated  by  similar 
feelings.  My  public,  for  example,  was  mostly  com 
posed  of  young  girls  from  middle-class  circles,  and 
had  the  desire  to  attain  intellectual  freedom  and  to 
put  it  into  practice ;  but  the  public  which  I  shall  face 
to-morrow  ..." 

"Yes,  I  know.  Mr.  Toker  has  told  us  —  it  em 
braces  all  ranks  in  all  lands.  Even  in  this  hall,  there 
is  not  much  unanimity  of  sentiment.  Look,  for  ex 
ample,  at  the  difference  between  my  views  and  the 
views  of  my  companion,  Count  Orell  ..." 

"I  must  thank  you  for  the  splendid  violets, 
Prince." 

"Oh,  only  a  modest  greeting." 

The  prince  remained  a  long  time  near  Franka,  en 
gaging  her  in  lively  conversation.  That  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  two  aunts  and  their  friends. 

"Well,  it  looks  as  if  Franka  had  a  very  zealous 
suitor:  who  may  it  be?" 

Malhof  happened  to  be  able  to  inform  them. 
227 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Indeed?"  exclaimed  Tante  Adele  thoughtfully. 
"A  prince  from  the  ruling  house!  That  is  danger 
ous.  He  certainly  could  n't  marry  her." 

Malhof  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "As  if  marriage 
must  always  be  in  the  wind !  I  am  curious  to  know 
whether  the  sermons  preached  up  there  for  the  wel 
fare  of  humanity  will  not  be  directed  also  against 
the  oppressive  chains  of  marriage." 

"Nothing  is  sacred  to  you!"  sighed  the  countess. 
"Besides,  as  you  never  were  married,  you  cannot 
judge  of  marriage." 

"For  the  very  reason  that  I  have  judged,  I  re 
mained  single." 

Coriolan  sat  with  a  terribly  bored  expression.  He 
understood  so  little  French  that  all  the  points  of  the 
reading  he  had  heard  had  wholly  escaped  him;  fin 
ally  he  had  given  up  all  attempt  to  listen.  In  his 
heart  he  was  already  repenting  that  he  had  ever 
taken  this  journey.  The  whole  thing  displeased  him. 
...  At  the  Apollo  Theater  it  is  more  amusing  .  .  . 
there  one  understands  everything  .  .  .  and  then  this 
Rose-Masquerade  .  .  . 

"You  look  very  savage,  Coriolan !"  remarked  the 
Countess  Adele;  "you  do  not  say  a  word." 

"I  say,  stay  at  home  and  entertain  yourself  sen 
sibly." 

The  young  composer  was  now  sitting  next  the 
Russian  widow. 

"The  piece  was  heavenly  .  .  .  perfectly  splendid 
...  it  must  be  a  delight  to  be  able  to  compose  such 
things."  Her  eyes  rested  warmly  on  the  young 
musician. 

228 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"  Every  artistic  creation  carries  with  it  a  good  bit 
of  agony,  most  gracious  Countess." 

"What  gives  others  so  much  delight  ought  not  to 
cause  its  creator  any  pain." 

"And  yet,  do  you  not  always  hear  the  sighs  that 
tremble  through  so  many  pieces  of  music?  These 
the  artist  must  have  drawn  out  of  his  own  soul.  But 
not  only  that  —  he  must  have  not  only  experienced 
anguish  in  order  to  reproduce  it  in  tones  —  creation 
itself  is  accompanied  by  pain;  yearning,  trouble, 
despondency  .  .  .  the  crushing  sense  of  the  inexpress 
ible  .  .  ." 

"You  must  explain  all  this  to  me  more  definitely. 
Please  come  to-morrow  and  have  a  cup  of  tea  —  at 
five  o'clock  .  .  .  Grand  H6tel  .  .  .  say  yes  .  .  .  will 
you  promise?" 

Helmer,  informed  by  Franka  of  the  presence  of 
the  Sielenburg  party,  entered  the  hall  and  sought 
out  the  little  Austrian  group.  Bowing,  he  went  up  to 
them:  "May  I  be  permitted  ...  in  memory  of  old 
times.  ...  I  do  not  know  whether  you  will  remem 
ber  me." 

The  countess  nodded:  "To  be  sure,  Herr  Helmer 
.  .  .  you  have  made  a  great  career  .  .  .  famous  poet 
.  .  .  that  is  no  small  thing!  Who  would  ever  have 
predicted  it?  You  will  give  us  your  book  to  read, 
won't  you  ?  And  tell  me,  is  this  Mr.  Toker  not  a  very 
extravagant  man?" 

"He  is  certainly  by  no  means  an  ordinary  man." 

"  Do  you  imply  by  that,"  asked  Coriolan  sharply, 
"that  we  are  ordinary  people?" 

"I  meant  nothing  more  than  I  said.  Mr.  Toker 
229 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  an  exceptional  phenomenon.  A  man,  who  by  work 
and  business  has  made  an  enormous  fortune,  and 
who  now  is  placing  this  fortune  at  the  service  of  the 
most  ideal  aims." 

Coriolan  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "He  simply 
wants  to  get  himself  talked  about." 

"What  ideal  aims  do  you  mean?  "  asked  the  count 
ess. 

"Heavens!  it  is  hard  to  explain  them  all  in  a  few 
words.  The  main  thing  is  the  spread  of  thoughts 
that  soar — Hochgedanken  ..." 

"What  is  that?" 

"If  you  will  do  me  the  honor  of  listening  to  my 
address,  then  you  will  understand  Mr.  Toker's  in 
tentions,  for  I  am  going  to  speak  in  the  spirit  which 
lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  motto  of  this  year's 
Rose-Festival." 

"Are  you  going  to  speak  to-day?" 

"No;  not  until  the  third  or  fourth  day." 

"  It  is  good  that  you  do  not  speak  this  evening," 
remarked  Fraulein  Albertine,  joining  in  the  conver 
sation.  "I  must  tell  you  frankly  that  your  voice 
seems  to  me  somewhat  hoarse  .  .  .  perhaps  you  have 
a  cold;  it  seems  to  me,  too,  that  your  nose  is  swol 
len  ...  you  ought  to  rub  on  a  little  candle  tallow." 

Helmer  smiled.  "  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  be  able 
to  find  a  tallow  candle  in  the  whole  Rose- Palace. 
But  now  I  will  bid  you  good-evening  ...  a  new 
lecture  is  beginning." 

The  young  Russian  author  now  stepped  forward 
to  the  reader's  deak  with  a  manuscript  in  his  hand. 
At  the  same  time  ushers  went  through  the  hall, 

230 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

distributing  printed  pamphlets  containing  German, 
French,  and  English  translations  of  what  the  author 
was  to  deliver  in  his  native  tongue.  That  portion 
of  the  public  which  did  not  understand  Russian  — 
and  that  was  by  far  the  larger  —  could  now  also 
follow  the  speaker  and  enjoy  his  euphonious  utter 
ance,  now  trembling  with  melancholy,  now  glowing 
with  inspiration.  What  he  offered,  were  brief  sketches 
in  prose :  scenes  from  the  time  of  war  and  of  revolu 
tion,  personal  experiences  or  episodes,  made  vivid 
by  poetic  intuition ;  stories  of  the  wolf's  pits,  stories 
of  barbed-wire  fences,  stories  of  shells  filled  with 
poison,  by  the  fumes  of  which  people  were  asphyxi 
ated  slowly  and  agonizingly ;  stories  of  women  beaten 
by  Cossack- naga/ikas;  of  tortures  practiced  in  dun 
geons;  of  pogroms,  of  executions,  of  massacring  and 
of  incendiary  bands;  of  the  woe  in  the  hearts  of 
young  Russians  of  all  classes,  from  the  humblest  of 
the  people  to  the  highest  in  court  circles,  who  had 
suffered  awfully  under  this  terrorism,  because  their 
hearts  and  souls  are  open  to  the  most  progressive 
ideas  of  freedom  and  mildness;  of  the  sorrows  of 
the  poets  and  the  scientists,  of  the  enlightened  poli 
ticians  and  the  simple  man  of  the  people,  whose 
natural  benevolence  is  opposed  to  all  these  cruelties, 
perpetrated  by  the  demon  Violence,  because  the 
minds  of  the  masses  are  subject  to  the  illusion  that 
violence  is  the  only  means  of  resisting  evil. 

The  poet  added  an  epilogue  to  his  little  histories:  — 

"What  I  have  related  is  sad,  profoundly  sad. 

Should   I  have  refrained  from  doing  this  in  this 

cinacle?  Our  host  has  provided  this  festival  week 

231 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

under  the  protection  and  shelter  of  Beauty — Beauty 
is  the  sister  of  Joy,  not  of  Woe  .  .  .  and  I  have 
brought  before  you  so  much  woe.  ...  I  have  un 
veiled  so  much  that  is  unspeakably  hateful !  But  it 
has  not  been  a  mistake;  indeed,  I  know  the  goal  that 
beckons  to  the  founder  of  this  Rose-Congress.  Lofty 
thoughts  are  to  fly  forth  into  the  world;  lofty  feel 
ings  must  be  aroused.  And  this  object  subserves  a 
still  most  distant  object:  namely,  that  it  should  be  a 
bit  better,  a  bit  brighter  in  this  world  of  ours.  To 
this  end  one  must  see  clearly,  must  look  straight  at 
the  reality.  One  must  know  all  that  is  going  on, 
everywhere.  All  the  cries  of  complaint  and  all  the 
shrieks  of  anguish  must  be  heard  as  they  are  torn 
from  tormented  human  beings  by  human  unreason. 
Then  flames  up  that  lofty  feeling  —  one  of  the 
noblest  of  all :  —  Pity  1  And  thereby  is  the  will 
strengthened  —  lofty  will  it  may  be  called  —  to  sub 
stitute  for  the  infamous  system  of  reciprocal  per 
secution  the  sublime  rule  of  reciprocal  helpfulness." 

A  gloomy  mood  had  taken  possession  of  the  audi 
ence,  yet  with  it  was  mingled  also  something  of  that 
reverential  emotion  by  which  Toker  \vanted  to  see 
his  public  stirred.  Then  followed  a  short  interlude 
of  music,  and  that  in  its  turn  was  followed  by  a 
small  ballet  of  quite  unique  kind.  Arc-lamps  were 
the  instruments  and  variegated  flames  were  the 
dancers.  It  seemed  like  a  divertissement  from  fairy 
land,  and  yet  it  was  only  an  experiment  from  the 
realm  of  chemistry. 

This  brought  to  a  conclusion  the  exercises  of  the  first 
evening,  and  social  intercourse  again  assumed  control. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
FRANKA'S  LECTURE 

WHEN  Franka  woke  the  following  morning,  she 
was  possessed  by  the  consciousness  that  all  sorts 
of  unpleasantnesses  were  weighing  upon  her.  .  .  . 
What  could  it  mean?  Oh,  yes,  that  evening,  she 
had  to  give  her  address.  Never,  except  the  first 
time,  had  she  felt  such  a  panic  at  the  prospect  of  a 
public  appearance  as  she  felt  now.  Always,  before, 
she  had  realized  that  she  was  making  her  addresses 
as  the  exponent  of  a  cause,  as  a  guide  for  those  of  her 
own  sex  who  were  searching  their  way  —  a  way  of 
escape;  her  own  person  was,  so  to  speak,  eliminated. 
But  this  time  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she,  Franka 
Garlett,  were  going  to  make  her  debut  before  the 
assembled  world,  which  would  pass  judgment  as  to 
whether  she  were  capable  of  cooperating  with  all  the 
celebrities  of  Europe  and  America  in  Toker's  great 
work  of  civilization.  There  would  be  in  the  hall  no 
band  of  enthusiastic  young  girls,  but  the  majority 
of  the  audience  would  be  men  who  would  either  take 
no  interest  in  the  tasks  of  the  new  woman,  or  would 
even  be  opposed  to  them. 

The  second  unpleasant  thing  that  weighed  on  her 
spirit  was  the  presence  of  her  aunts  and  their  two 
escorts,  Coriolan  and  Malhof.  To  speak  before 
them  was  really  painful,  and  it  would  seem  to  her 
as  if  these  four  were  her  real  audience.  And  then 

233 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

there  was  Prince  Victor  Adolph,  who  would  hear 
her.  .  .  .  Why  had  she  any  timidity  before  him? 
Why  that  wish  to  please  him,  that  terror  of  dis 
pleasing  him?  ...  Is  a  person  worthy  of  address 
ing  the  whole  world  as  the  interpreter  of  "lofty 
thoughts,"  when  the  question  arises,  What  will  that 
young  man  think? 

Accustomed  to  speak  extempore,  she  had  made  no 
written  digest  of  her  address ;  but  now  she  felt  that 
in  these  quite  altered  circumstances  her  inspiration 
might  desert  her,  and  she  resolved  to  write  a  draft. 
She  looked  at  the  clock:  it  was  still  early,  only  seven. 
No  matter,  she  must  have  time  to  write.  She  rang 
for  her  maid,  made  a  hurried  morning  toilette,  and 
had  her  writing-apparatus,  together  with  her  break 
fast,  brought  out  on  the  balcony. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  fresh  morning,  full  of  bird 
songs  and  spicy  fragrance.  Franka's  room  looked 
out  on  a  small  group  of  firs,  and  she  regarded  it  as  a 
real  blessing  that  here  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  the 
everlasting  roses,  and  no  breath  of  the  everlasting 
perfume  of  roses.  Just  that  day  the  whole  rose- 
scheme  for  the  time-being  seemed  distasteful  to  her, 
for  it  was  responsible  for  her  making  her  appear 
ance  as  a  member  of  the  Rose-Order  and  perhaps 
lamentably  failing.  .  .  . 

She  drew  in  long  breaths  of  the  forest-air  and  a 
half-yearning,  half-regretful  thought  stole  over  her: 
"Why  am  I  not  in  my  quiet  Moravian  hunting- 
castle,  which  lies  so  deep  hidden  in  the  fir  forest?" 
How  beautiful  it  would  be  there,  how  restful,  how 
lonely  .  .  .  loneliness?  No,  that  was  not,  after  all, 

234 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

what  she  was  pining  for  .  .  .  some  one  must  be 
with  her  .  .  .  who?  Victor  Adolph?  No,  he  was  a 
stranger.  It  must  be  some  trusty  friend,  some  one 
on  whose  heart  —  a  heart  containing  no  depths 
hidden  from  her  —  she  might  lean ;  at  the  same 
time,  some  one  to  whom  she  would  be  the  dearest 
object  on  earth.  .  .  .  The  image  of  her  father  rose 
in  her  soul.  .  .  .  "Oh,  yes,  thou,  thou!  But  thou 
art  dead." 

She  drew  a  deep  sigh  and  went  into  her  room  to 
fetch  out  the  precious  notebook.  She  would  hold  a 
little  colloquy  with  her  father.  She  came  back  to 
the  balcony  with  the  book  in  her  hand,  sat  down 
at  the  table  where  her  tablet  and  pencil  were 
ready  for  her,  and  instead  of  writing,  she  began 
to  turn  the  pages  of  the  notebook  and  to  read. 
The  first  sentence  that  attracted  her  attention 
was:  — 

"The  absent  grow  daily  more  and  more  distant!" 
(Japanese  proverb.) 

Franka  looked  up  to  the  sky.  "Ah,  yes,  my  poor 
departed  father !  Death  is  an  eternal  absence  — 
how  sadly  true  that  is.  I  love  thee  still  —  I  see  thee, 
but  how  far,  how  far  away!" 

She  read  on :  — 

Saume  nicht  dich  zu  erdreisten,     Do  not  hesitate  to  be  full  of 

daring, 
Wenn    die    Menge    zaudernd  When    the    crowd    irresolute 

schweift;  drifts; 

Alles  kann  der  Edle  leisten,          All  things  can  the  noble  accom 
plish 

Der  versteht  und  rasch  ergreift.   Who  perceives  and  quickly  acts. 
(Goethe,  Faust,  2d  part,  Act  I.  "Chor  der  Geister.") 
235 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka  remembered  how  at  this  stanza  her  father 
had  remarked:  "Do  you  see  in  how  few  words  the 
poet  sums  up  the  characteristics  that  make  a  man 
a  leader  and  accomplisher?  He  must  be  bold  and 
confident  and  noble;  he  must  have  intellect  and 
resolution." 

Von  Halbheit  halte  den  Pfad  Of  mediocrity  keep  thy  road 

rein,  clear; 

Der  ganze  Mann  setzt  ganze  Let  the  whole  man  bear  the 

Tat  ein  whole  load  clear 

Und   wahre    Ehre   muss   ohne  And  pure  honor  must  be  of  all 

Naht  sein.  seam  sewed  clear. 

(Ernst  Ziel.) 

"The  whole  man  bear  the  whole  load  clear," 
repeated  Franka.  "The  whole  woman,  too,  —  this 
equalization  in  dignity  Brother  Chlodwig  taught 
me." 

All  men's  advantage  every  man's  rule. 
Banish  him  far  away  —  our  age's  demon  far  hence, 
The  sleepy,  lame  monster,  whose  name  is  Indifference. 

I  believe  it  is  the  secret  of  eminent  men  that  they  pre 
serve  into  advancing  life  their  childish  feelings,  —  that 
is  to  say,  warm,  deep  feelings.  This  terrible  world  cools 
down  all  ardor  into  nauseous  lukewarmness.  But  emi 
nent  men  have  so  much  internal  warmth  that  an  ocean 
of  stupidity  and  unintelligence  could  never  cool  what  is 
burning  in  their  hearts.  They  have  an  absolute  lack  of 
affinity  for  everything  common  and  ordinary ;  they  enter 
into  no  combination  with  it. 

"There  didst  thou  describe  thy  dear  self,  my  own 
father.  ...  I  never  saw  in  my  life  such  a  childlike 
person  as  thou  wert  .  .  .  except  Helmer,  when  he 
laughs  ...  he  also  can  laugh  like  a  child.  ..." 

236 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

VVenn  auch  nur  Einer  lebt,  If  only  one  man  lives 

Der  nicht  sich  beugt  Who  will  not  fail 

Und  fur  die  Wahrheit  zeugt  —  And  makes  the  truth  prevail  — 

Wie  das  erhebt!  What  joy  that  gives! 

Wenn  auch  nur  Einer  still  If  only  one  man  press 

Die  Hand  uns  driickt  Silent  our  hands, 

Und  mit  uns  denkt  und  will,  What  happiness 

Wie  das  begluckt!  To  know  he  understands! 
(Hermann  Lingg.) 

For  a  long  while  Franka  remained  buried  in  the 
perusal  of  the  old  notebook.  At  last,  she  put  herself 
to  making  an  outline  of  her  coming  address.  She 
wrote  down  a  few  notes,  but  could  not  seem  to  warm 
up  to  the  work,  and  she  accepted  as  a  welcome 
diversion  the  arrival  of  the  morning  mail.  As 
usual,  she  received  a  great  number  of  letters  and 
documents.  Dr.  Fixstern  regularly  sent  her  reports 
regarding  the  condition  of  the  property  entrusted 
to  him.  The  directors  of  the  Garlett  Academy  kept 
her  informed  of  the  progress  of  this  flourishing  insti 
tution.  Enthusiastic  letters  from  young  girls  came 
every  day,  and  there  were  numerous  requests  for 
autographs.  On  this  morning  there  was  in  addition 
the  offer  of  an  impresario  who  wanted  her  to  under 
take  a  lecture  tournee  through  the  United  States; 
not  to  speak  of  a  declaration  of  love  from  a  silent 
admirer  present  at  the  Rose- Week's  exercises  and 
moved  to  send  her  a  few  lyric  effusions.  This  time 
her  whole  mail  made  a  particularly  arid  impression 
on  Franka.  It  seemed  to  her  so  lifeless  and  soulless. 
But  now  her  duty  was  to  proceed  with  writing  down 
the  lecture  —  it  was  already  eleven  o'clock.  She 
pushed  the  half-written  page  into  position  before 

237 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

her.  .  .  .  No,  she  could  not  master  her  thoughts. 
.  .  .  She  needed  advice,  needed  warm,  living  words. 
She  got  up  and  pressed  the  electric  button.  ' '  Please, ' ' 
she  said  to  the  servant  who  answered  her  summons, 
"see  if  Mr.  Helmer  is  in,  and  if  he  is,  I  should  like  to 
have  him  come  to  see  me." 

After  a  moment  the  servant  came  back:  "Mr. 
Helmer  has  just  this  moment  come." 

"Very  good,  ask  him  into  the  salon." 

She  stepped  into  the  adjoining  room.  Helmer  was 
standing  before  the  center  table,  contemplating  the 
great  basket  of  violets  on  which  was  still  attached 
Prince  Victor  Adolph's  visiting-card. 

Franka  offered  him  her  hand:  "  It  was  good  of  you 
to  come  .  .  ." 

"Since  you  have  summoned  me  ..." 

"Oh.  Do  not  be  so  ceremonious.  ...  I  wanted 
to  see  Brother  Chlodwig.  ...  I  need  your  encour 
agement,  your  advice  ..." 

He  seemed  ill  at  ease.  "My  advice?  Perhaps  in 
regard  to  this  business,"  and  he  indicated  the  violets. 

"What  business?  Oh,  indeed,  you  think  .  .  . 
no,  no,  listen.  ...  I  will  tell  you  what  I  want." 

Just  at  that  moment  Frau  Eleonore  entered  by 
the  other  door.  "Do  I  disturb  you"? 

"Frankly,  yes.  I  wanted  to  talk  over  my  lecture 
with  Mr.  Helmer." 

"Very  well;  then  I  will  write  some  letters";  and 
she  vanished  again  into  her  own  room. 

"So  now  you  know  what  it  is  about.  ...  I  am 
simply  in  despair  about  my  lecture.  You  must  help 
me,  just  as  at  the  first  time.  You  showed  me  the 

238 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

way  and  made  it  smooth,  and  here  this  day  I  am 
standing  again  on  a  crossway,  or  rather  before  a 
wall.  .  .  .  Help  me  over,  reach  me  your  hand!" 

The  demand  was  only  meant  symbolically,  but 
Helmer  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  she  got  a  degree 
of  calm,  of  consolation  from  the  firm  grasp. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Franka? "  he  asked  tenderly. 
"What  has  come  over  you  suddenly?  Timidity? 
.  .  .  You,  the  victorious,  you,  'the  Garlett'?" 

"Dear  me,  it  is  hard  to  explain.  Timidity?  Yes, 
and  such  a  sense  of  emptiness,  such  a  lack  of  impulse. 
When,  before,  I  have  spoken  to  my  audiences  of 
women,  I  have  had  something  to  say  to  them.  .  .  . 
I  wanted  to  persuade  them,  I  wanted  to  transfer  to 
their  souls  what  filled  my  own  soul  to  the  brim. 
My  addresses  were  a  means,  not  an  end.  .  .  .  But 
here:  I  cannot  feel  the  impulse  to  persuade  all  these 
people,  —  beginning  with  Mr.  Toker  and  his  guests, 
—  and  all  these  princes  and  diplomats  and  my 
aunts  and  Coriolan  (why  did  n't  they  stay  at 
home?)  —  to  persuade  them,  I  say,  that  the  young 
girls  of  our  day  must  assume  new  duties.  .  .  .  And 
I  shall  stand  there  on  the  platform,  in  order  to 
perform  —  hateful  term !  —  in  order  to  show  the  in 
quisitive  company  whether  I  have  sufficient  ability 
to  be  accepted  as  one  of  the  Rose-Knights,  whether 
I  really  deserved  to  be  invited  by  Mr.  Toker.  These 
people  are  not  at  all  here  to  get  edification,  but  they 
come  as  critics;  and  I  am  here,  not  as  one  urging, 
but  as  an  artist,  and  I  am  not  that.  For  if  the  inner 
impulse  fails,  then  I  can't  speak  .  .  .  and  that  is 
the  reason  why  I  am  unhappy.  ..." 

239 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Chlodwig  pressed  her  hand  still  more  firmly.  "I 
understand  you,  Franka.  But  oh,  your  lips  are 
actually  trembling,  like  a  child's  when  it  wants  to 
cry.  Do  not  be  faint-hearted;  there  will  be  a  way 
out  of  this  difficulty.  If  it  is  really  only  what  you 
have  just  told  me,  then  it  is  easy  enough  to  help 
you.  Or,  perhaps,  is  it  a  fit  of  strained  nerves? 
Possibly  the  work  that  you  have  chosen  does  not 
satisfy  you  any  longer;  —  perhaps  the  emptiness 
which  you  complain  of  is  the  emptiness  of  your 
heart,  a  conscious  or  an  unconscious  yearning;  —  or 
is  it  that  you  are  tired  of  these  roses  here,  and," 
with  a  glance  at  the  basket,  "are  longing  for  more 
violets?" 

Franka  shook  her  head  vigorously.  "Leave  the 
violets  out  of  the  question.  I  have  told  you  the 
honest  truth,  why  I  dread  this  evening  so  much." 

"Well,  then,  we  shall  meet  that  difficulty.  Let 
me  think." 

He  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  table  and  supported 
his  head  with  his  hand.  Franka  looked  up  to  him  — 
expectantly  and  trustfully.  The  thoughtful  expres 
sion  of  his  face  touched  and  moved  her:  he  was  em 
ploying  his  faculties  for  her.  He  wanted  to  help  her. 
Ah,  after  the  verb  "to  love,"  "to  help"  is  the  most 
beautiful  verb  in  the  world ! 

After  a  while  he  began  to  speak,  looking  her  full 
in  the  eye:  "The  public,  whose  criticism  and  lack  of 
sympathy  thou  fearest  —  forgive  me  for  using  the 
familiar  'du'  .  .  .  I  drifted  back  to  the  time  when 
I  wrote  you  those  letters  as  your  brother  in  the 
spirit  —  this  public  must  vanish,  must  really  vanish 

240 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

out  of  your  consciousness.  You  must  put  it  out 
of  existence  yourself  with  your  own  introductory 
words.  There  must  be  the  feeling  that  it  really  is  not 
there,  this  public  —  that  therefore  it  has  no  right  to 
criticize  you.  You  are  not  speaking  to  it  —  it  can 
only  listen,  while  you  are  speaking  to  a  hundred 
thousand  others.  Aye,  to  millions,  perhaps ;  ...  it 
is  your  best  opportunity  —  that  must  inspire  you 
and  fire  you.  Up  till  now  you  have  been  following  a 
fine,  brilliant  career;  to-day  you  will  set  the  crown  to 
it.  Begin  your  address  with  the  words :  '  You  young 
girls,  now  listen  to  me ' ;  and  then  continue  in  some 
such  way  as  this:  'Forgive  me,  ladies  and  gentle 
men!  I  know  very  well  that  in  this  distinguished 
assembly  assuredly  there  will  be  only  a  small  per 
centage  of  young  girls,  and  therefore  my  words  will 
arouse  only  a  feeble  echo  in  this  room.  But  here  I 
stand  because  I  have  undertaken  to  deliver  a  mes 
sage  —  a  message  to  young  people  of  my  own  sex 
showing  them  the  way  which  —  as  I  believe  —  will 
lead  the  girls  themselves  and  at  the  same  time  all 
human  society  to  higher  aims.  And  to-day  in  this 
hall,  the  windows  of  which  look  out  into  the  wide 
world,  the  opportunity  is  vouchsafed  me  to  be  heard 
by  invisible  throngs  of  those  to  whom  my  life-work 
is  dedicated,  and  therefore  it  is  a  sacred  duty  to 
direct  my  utterances  only  to  these  and  to  call  out 
more  loudly  and  joyfully  than  ever  before:  "Ye 
young  maidens,  listen  to  me ! "  '  After  this  exordium, 
Franka,  the  whole  audience  of  those  that  disturb 
you  will  vanish  out  of  your  consciousness,  and  you 
can  repeat  to  the  invisible  listeners  all  the  things 

241 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

with  which  at  your  first  appearance  you  took  all 
maiden  hearts  by  storm." 

Franka  sprang  up  and  reached  Helmer  both  her 
hands.  "Thanks,  Brother  Chlodwig,  that  is,  indeed, 
a  saving  way  out.  You  are  and  always  will  be  my 
dear  master!" 

Some  one  knocked  at  the  door.  Franka  let  go 
Helmer's  hands  and  cried:  "Come  in." 

Once  more  it  was  an  offering  of  flowers  and  once 
more  the  prince's  visiting-card  was  attached  to  the 
bouquet.  A  shade  of  vexation  passed  over  Helmer's 
face.  He  felt  a  twofold  annoyance:  in  the  first  place, 
at  this  importunate  homage,  and  in  the  second  place, 
because  he  was  annoyed  .  .  .  was  it  jealousy? 

"I  will  leave  you  now.  You  must  collect  your 
thoughts,  and  you  need  rest,  Franka." 

"Good-bye,  then,  for  now.   I  thank  you  again." 

"Shall  you  wear  these  violets  this  evening?" 

"I  always  wear  violets." 

"If  you  marry  this  prince,  Franka,  then  it  is  all 
up  with  your  career." 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?  The  prince  in 
his  position  cannot  marry  any  one  of  humble  rank; 
he  is  not  imagining  such  a  thing." 

"What  is  he  imagining,  then?" 

"I  don't  know  you,  Helmer.  Hitherto  you  have 
never  interfered  with  my  private  affairs." 

"Forgive  my  presumption.  I  shan't  do  so  any 
more."  He  turned  to  go. 

"Are  you  angry,  Brother  Chlodwig?" 

"Yes  —  with  myself. "  And  he  hastened  out. 

Franka  gazed  after  him  and  smiled. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

YE  YOUNG   MAIDENS,   LISTEN  TO  ME 

THE  exercises  on  this  second  evening  of  the  Rose- 
Week  began  as  before  with  music.  But  it  was  a  kind 
of  music  such  as  had  never  before,  or  anywhere  else, 
been  heard.  A  feeling  of  wonder,  and  unprecedented 
delight  took  possession  of  the  audience  —  a  delight 
which  almost  reached  awe.  It  was  a  newly  invented 
instrument,  the  tone  of  which  had  no  resemblance 
to  that  of  any  other  instrument.  It  was  more  nearly 
comparable  to  bell-tones,  like  cathedral  chimes,  loud 
and  grave  and  vibrating. 

In  the  midst  of  a  crescendo  the  player  of  it 
suddenly  ceased  playing  and  said  to  the  pub 
lic:— 

"What  you  are  here  listening  to  is  the  voice  of  a 
magician  —  the  magician  '  Electricity. '  The  in 
strument,  as  you  see,  is  not  large,  and  its  mechanism 
is  concealed;  I  invented  it  and  constructed  it.  In 
honor  of  the  Maecenas  who  enabled  me  to  accom 
plish  my  invention,  I  have  christened  it  the  '  Toker 
Organ. '  It  is  played  by  any  artist  who  understands 
the  organ,  but  its  tone  and  its  timbre  are  the  product 
of  a  nature-force  tamed.  The  surprising  thing  is 
that  the  tone  has  such  a  sweetness  that  it  can  awake 
the  keenest  musical  delight,  and  that  its  attainable 
power  has  no  limits.  The  crescendo  which  I  just 
now  broke  off  can  be  made  ever  so  many  times  more 

243 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tremendous  on  this  'Toker  Organ.'  A  shut-off  has 
to  be  introduced  here,  for  otherwise  the  strength  of 
the  tone-waves  would  increase  so  that  it  might  not 
only  burst  your  ear-drums  but  even  the  ceiling  of 
the  hall.  Yet,  in  open  space,  on  a  mountain- top  or 
from  a  lighthouse  in  the  open  sea,  one  might  with 
impunity  fill  a  circumference  of  miles  with  music. 
And  because  you  are  now  assured  that  the  sweet 
tone,  however  powerful  it  may  be,  remains  sweet 
and  tender,  and  will  never  become  a  deafening 
noise,  I  will  once  more  swell  to  a  hitherto  unknown 
majesty  of  power,  but  certainly  not  to  be  unendur 
able,  as  the  shut-off  is  introduced  a  long  way  before 
that  point ;  —  I  will  continue  my  playing.  I  choose 
an  old  song  known  to  you  all,  the  text  of  which 
seems  appropriate  to  this  festival  week:  'The  Last 
Rose  of  Summer. ' ' 

These  words,  spoken  in  English,  —  the  young 
inventor  was  an  American  engineer  of  the  Edison 
school,  —  were  repeated  in  French  and  German 
by  interpreters.  Then  the  young  man  again  seated 
himself  at  the  instrument,  allowing  the  resounding 
bells  to  give  out  the  melancholy  melody,  ever  fuller 
and  fuller,  so  that  it  seemed  to  the  listeners  as  if 
the  whole  hall  were  filled  with  the  vibrating  waves 
of  sound.  When  the  crescendo  grew  four  or  five 
times  as  loud  as  it  was  when  the  player  had  broken 
off  the  first  time,  voices  were  heard  here  and  there  in 
the  hall  as  if  crying  in  anguish:  " Enough,  enough!" 
The  artist  nodded  and  instituted  immediately  a 
diminuendo,  and  gradually  the  melody,  just  as  it 
had  mounted,  so  now  it  decreased  to  the  most 

244 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

thread-like  pianissimo,  dying  away  as  if  in  the  re 
motest  distance. 

Stormy  applause  now  broke  loose.  Something 
never  before  known  had  been  experienced,  life  was 
enriched  by  a  new  sensation.  Then  followed  the 
social  intermission.  Many  mounted  the  platform 
to  examine  the  instrument.  A  buzz  of  conversa 
tion  filled  the  hall.  Impressions  regarding  the  mar 
velous  music  were  exchanged.  A  composer  told  his 
delight  that  music  had  achieved  now  a  new  means 
of  expression  of  such  inimitable  beauty.  An  officer 
of  the  general  staff  remarked  that,  in  the  infinite 
possibilities  of  overwhelming  noise,  there  might  be 
something  of  strategic  importance.  A  passionate 
lover  of  nature  cried,  "Well,  I  must  say:  now  that 
the  sublime  emptiness  of  heavenly  space  is  to  be 
darkened  with  every  kind  of  whirring  aviating 
rabble,  the  splendid  silence  of  the  mountains  and 
the  seas  will  be  desecrated  by  electrically  bellowed 
street-songs."  On  the  other  hand,  a  philosopher 
remarked  thoughtfully:  "Boundless  powers  put 
into  the  hand  of  man  —  what  prospects  open  up!" 

Coriolan  expressed  his  views  to  his  cousins:  "Did 
n't  I  tell  you  so?  Tingel-tangel,  klingel-klangel. 
.  .  .  Vari6te".  .  .  .  And  the  next  number  is  the  ap 
pearance  of  Franka  Garlett,  who  is  still,  unfortu 
nately,  our  kinswoman.  Where  is  she  hiding?  She 
is  not  to  be  seen  anywhere. " 

Franka  was  in  fact  not  present  in  the  hall.  All 
day  long  she  had  denied  herself  to  every  one,  so  that 
she  might  devote  her  time  uninterruptedly  to  the 
preparation  of  her  address.  She  had  not  even  gone 

245 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  the  hall  at  the  beginning  of  the  exercises,  but  had 
asked  to  be  called  only  when  it  was  her  turn  to 
speak. 

The  moment  had  now  arrived.  She  stepped  out 
on  the  platform. 

A  murmur  of  admiration  swept  through  the  hall. 
She  looked  classically  beautiful  in  her  trailing  pure 
white  gown  with  its  long,  winglike  sleeves,  with  no 
other  adornment  than  a  pearl  necklace  and  the  usual 
small  bouquet  of  violets  at  the  heart-shaped  open 
ing  of  her  bodice.  Her  face  was  pallid  in  contrast  to 
the  black  diadem  of  her  tresses,  coiled  high  on  her 
head.  As  she  stepped  forward,  loud  applause  broke 
out.  She  acknowledged  it,  without  smiling,  with  a 
graceful  inclination  and  began :  — 

"  Ye  young  maidens,  listen  to  me ! "  Just  as  Helmer 
had  suggested,  she  delivered  her  proem  and  then 
repeated  the  argument  of  her  first  speech  in  which 
she  took  as  her  text  the  injunction:  "We  are  here 
to  share  in  man's  thought, "  added  to  Goethe's 
"We  are  here  to  share  in  men's  love." 

"Since  she  had  thus  spoken,"  she  added,  "the 
domain  had  widened  out  ever  more  and  more,  — 
the  domain  which  woman  had  conquered  for  herself 
inch  by  inch,  —  and  the  time  was  rapidly  approach 
ing  when  young  womanhood  was  also  to  share  in 
man's  work,  even  in  his  political  work.  Now  the 
important  question  was  not  as  formerly  to  win  posi 
tions  for  themselves,  but  it  was  important  for  them 
to  make  themselves  capable  and  worthy  of  filling 
the  places  waiting  for  them.  In  many  countries  — 
Australia,  Finland,  Norway,  and  other  lands  —  the 

246 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

doors  of  Parliament  have  been  thrown  open  to  wo 
men  as  electors  and  elected ;  probably  little  by  little 
the  other  countries  would  follow.  Probably,  also, 
women  —  if  once  they  entered  deliberative  bodies 

—  would  be  entrusted  with  official  positions,  and 
the  ministries  would  not  remain  closed  to  them.    In 
short,  equal  rights  and  equal  positions  would  be  theirs 
along  the  whole  line :  simply  a  terrible  state  of  things, 
unless  we  have  sufficient  imagination  to  conceive  of 
simultaneously  altered  forms  of  society  and  a  more 
highly  developed  community.    The  great  distrust 
and  displeasure,  ordinarily  felt  against  any  proposed 
change  in  conditions,  are  derived  from  the  fact  that 
the  environing  conditions  are  supposed  to  be  un 
changed,  and  a  harsh  dissonance  is  experienced,  just 
such  an  one  as  a  discordant  tone  must  give  in  a 
well-tuned  instrument. 

"Only  one  example:  a  woman  as  an  executioner 

—  what  a  horrid  picture.    Restrain  your  emotion  — 
if  ever  woman  finds  her  place  among  the  lawgiv 
ers  of  the  land,  capital  punishment  will  surely  be 
abolished. 

"Do  you  fully  realize  what  is  the  gist  of  this 
question?  Whether  our  sex  shall  share  in  the  direc 
tion  of  institutions  and  events  is  not  merely  a  ques 
tion  of  the  improvement  of  women's  lot,  but  it  is 
also  that  of  the  improvement  of  man's  lot.  All 
the  virtues  which  are  entrusted  to  our  charge,  and 
which  are  supposed  to  be  superfluous  in  public 
affairs,  wholly  conducted  from  the  masculine  side,  — 
mildness,  gentleness,  moderation,  purity,  the  power 
to  endure  without  complaining,  and  to  love  with 

247 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

utter  devotion,  —  all  these  virtues  we  must  carry 
intact  into  the  new  circles  of  activity.  Before  all, 
however,  we  must  strive  to  possess  them,  indeed; 
those  virtues  in  a  large  measure  are  only  ascribed 
to  us  in  poems. 

"  But  that  is  not  sufficient.  If  women  are  to  enjoy 
equal  rights  with  men  in  deliberation  and  action, 
then  they  must  also  appropriate  those  characteristics 
that  are  generally  regarded  as  exclusively  masculine 
virtues:  courage,  steadfastness,  energy,  resolution, 
logical  thought.  On  the  other  hand,  they  must  be 
ware  (thinking  thus  to  legitimate  their  claim  to  equal 
rights)  of  adopting  those  failings  which  are  regarded 
as  masculine  prerogatives:  habits  of  drinking  and 
brawling,  brutality,  harshness,  intemperance.  If  the 
emancipation  of  women  develops  in  this  direction,  as 
its  opponents  at  the  outset  generally  believed  to  be 
its  tendency,  then  it  would  be  no  blessing  —  it  would 
be  a  curse.  But  this  will  not  happen.  For  humanity 
develops  upward.  And  the  cooperation  of  both  sexes 
in  all  callings  will  have  as  consequences  that  each  will 
adopt  the  virtues  characteristic  of  the  other  and 
will  drop  the  faults  and  vices  hitherto  regarded  as 
special  privileges,  so  that  they  themselves  and  the 
practice  of  their  callings  will  be  thereby  ennobled. 
Then  there  will  not  be  mannish  girls  and  coarse, 
manlike  women,  and  no  effeminate  men,  but  com 
plete  human  beings  of  both  sexes,  standing  on  a 
loftier  plane!" 

Here  Franka  was  interrupted  by  applause.  As 
she  stood  there  in  her  thoroughly  gracious  woman 
liness,  in  her  absolutely  feminine  dignity,  at  the 

248 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

same  time  performing  her  great  mission  with  such 
unshaken  conviction,  she  seemed,  indeed,  to  be  the 
personification  of  that  ideal  —  of  combined  tender 
ness  and  strength  —  which  she  had  conjured  up 
before  the  audience. 

She  continued  speaking  for  some  time  longer. 
She  depicted  what  had  been  gained  in  positive 
social  advantage  by  the  participation  of  women  in 
the  social  duties  of  the  present  day,  now  that  this 
movement  was  really  on  the  fair  road  to  accom 
plishment.  The  battle  against  one  of  the  worst  foes 
of  humanity  —  alcoholism  —  had  resulted  in  its 
greatest  victories  in  countries  where  women  exer 
cise  an  influence  on  the  making  of  laws.  The  war 
against  another  of  the  shameful  blots  on  our  civili 
zation  —  the  sexual  slavery  of  women ;  this  is  also 
to  be  eradicated  only  where  pure  and  blameless 
women  have  the  courage  to  look  the  infamous  evil 
in  the  face,  to  call  it  by  name,  and  to  lead  the  re 
volt  against  it.  Dueling  and  war  are  two  functions 
in  which  the  feminine  sex  are  forbidden  to  take 
part,  because  they  stand  in  absolute  opposition 
to  all  those  qualities  and  feelings  that  characterize 
the  feminine  half  of  mankind.  If  now  this  half 
should  gain  their  due  influence  in  the  conduct  of 
public  life,  then  those  two  deadly  modes  of  settling 
disputes  would  no  longer  remain  legitimate.  "The 
mission  of  woman,  thus  conceived,  is  anticipated 
and  poetically  symbolized  by  the  sovereign  figure 
of  the  Madonna  trampling  a  dragon  under  her 
dainty  foot." 

Here  the  speaker  paused  for  a  moment.  On  many 
249 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

sides  there  was  applause.  Yet  many  refrained  from 
expressing  approbation,  because  they  felt  offended 
by  Franka's  words  —  what  did  she  mean  by  dragon? 
Could  she  mean  militarism?  Or  the  whole  mascu 
line  sex?  Would  she  like  to  see  petticoat  govern 
ment  established?  Remarks  were  heard:  "What 
idiots  these  feminists  are!"  "And  she  is  so  pretty; 
she  certainly  would  not  need  to  take  up  such 
fads!" 

On  the  other  hand,  those  in  the  audience  who  did 
not  understand  German  were  captivated  by  her 
appearance  and  entranced  by  her  melodious  voice. 
They  followed  the  occasional  gestures  with  which 
she  emphasized  certain  phrases,  and  they  kept  their 
eyes  fixed  on  her  calm,  white  hands  with  their  long, 
tapering  fingers  and  their  rosy,  gleaming  nails.  Her 
tone  of  queenly  calmness,  now  and  again  vibrating 
with  restrained  feeling,  exercised  on  all  the  same 
charm,  whether  they  understood  her  spoken  word 
or  not ;  and  the  very  ones  who  could  not  understand 
applauded  most  unrestrainedly,  because  they  de 
tected  nothing  in  her  speech  to  disturb  their  con 
victions.  Even  De  la  Rochere  clapped  vigorously, 
as  he  assuredly  would  not  have  done  if  he  had  known 
what  she  had  been  pleading  for:  in  his  eyes  there 
was  nothing  more  ridiculous,  nothing  more  baneful, 
than  the  object  aimed  at  in  the  Feminist  Move 
ment.  In  his  eyes  "woman"  was  "une  creature 
d'amour, "  and  this  sentimentally  uttered  epithet 
was,  as  he  believed,  the  highest  compliment  that 
could  be  given  to  a  woman.  Prince  Victor  Adolph 
found  an  artistic  satisfaction  in  listening  to  Franka's 

250 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

address.  For  the  cause  itself,  he  had  little  sym 
pathy  —  it  did  not  appeal  to  him. 

In  the  Sielenburg  group  a  painful  emotion  was 
stirred.  Coriolan  gave  utterance  to  an  inarticulate 
grunt  of  disapprobation ;  the  Countess  Adele  sighed ; 
Fraulein  Albertine  raised  her  eyes  beseechingly  to 
heaven;  only  Baron  Malhof  cried,  with  sincere 
warmth:  "Ah,  she  is  a  splendid  young  creature!" 

Franka  proceeded:  "I  have  indeed  overpassed 
the  limits  that  I  once  set  for  myself  as  a  field  of 
labor.  I  am  not  accustomed  to  plead  for  the  con 
quest  of  professions  and  for  attainment  of  political 
rights  —  all  that  I  leave  to  other  champions  of  the 
Woman  Movement.  But  if  these  callings  and  rights 
come  gradually  into  the  hands  of  those  of  my  sex, 
then  they  must  know  how  to  exercise  them;  they 
must  be  educated  to  the  task.  Their  minds  must 
be  open  and  their  interest  must  be  awake  to  the 
universality  of  the  problems  of  civilization:  these 
are  all  correlated,  and  for  this  reason  the  only  duty 
that  I  put  before  my  young  sisters  was  this:  Learn 
how  to  think!  But  to-day,  knowing  that  an  echo 
from  this  address  will  be  carried  to  the  remotest 
circles,  and  therefore  also  to  those  women  who 
stand  in  the  van  and  who  have  already  won  such 
important  strategic  points,  —  as,  for  example,  the 
women  in  Australia,  —  I  felt  myself  compelled  to 
drop  those  restrictions,  in  order  to  gaze  out  over  the 
whole  wide  field  of  the  Woman  Question. 

"And,  in  conclusion,  I  turn  to  the  men  that  hear 
me:  We  demand  nothing  of  your  magnanimity.  We 
do  not  come  as  petitioners,  but  as  givers  —  for  the 

251 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

time  being  as  desirous  of  giving ;  for  still  a  portion 
of  mankind,  both  men  and  women,  reject  the  gifts 
we  would  confer.  'Let  things  remain  as  they  are!' 
this  fundamental  desideratum  of  the  conservative 
spirit  is  still  cherished  by  the  majority  of  women. 
Therefore,  even  among  them  there  is  still  a  large 
proportion  of  those  opposed  to  the  Feminist  Move 
ment.  Among  men,  on  the  other  hand,  it  numbers 
an  ever-increasing  host  of  adherents.  The  admission 
of  collective  energy  to  the  work  for  the  elevation 
and  enrichment  of  human  society  is  a  matter  of 
equal  concern  to  both  halves.  The  ideal  of  that 
social  condition  in  which  brutality  is  to  be  driven 
out,  in  which  gentleness,  benevolence,  and  beauty 
are  to  become  effective,  is,  God  knows,  no  exclu 
sively  feminine  ideal.  It  has  swept  before  the  vi 
sion  of  all  the  great  teachers  of  mankind ;  and  that 
is  to-day  also  the  guiding  star  of  all  those  poets, 
thinkers,  and  statesmen  who  are  yearning  for  a  new 
and  better  day  and  are  laboring  to  bring  it  to  pass. 

"All  these  welcome  the  cooperation  of  women  as 
a  reinforcement  of  their  effective  forces.  The  battle 
against  ancient  rooted  evil,  against  the  dominion 
of  force,  is  truly  not  easy,  and  the  men  who  are  con 
ducting  it  will  only  rejoice  if  to  their  aid  come  forth 
coadjutors  and  assistants  from  the  ranks  of  that 
half  of  mankind  whose  most  distinctive  domain 
lies  in  those  virtues  which  they  are  trying  to  diffuse. 

"Aye,  this  is  what  the  new  Eve  is  to  become:  a 
coadjutor  recognized  as  of  equal  value;  and  for 
this  purpose  must  you,  my  young  sisters,  educate 
yourselves,  and  for  this  purpose  must  you,  my 

252 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

noble  brethren, "  —  and  here  she  extended  one  hand 
toward  her  auditors,  —  "help  and  sustain  us. " 

She  bowed  and  stepped  back.  John  Toker  went 
to  meet  her  and  shook  her  hand.  The  audience 
applauded  vigorously. 

During  the  social  intermission  following  her  ad 
dress,  Franka  went  down  into  the  hall.  She  was 
surrounded,  and  numerous  admirers  —  both  men 
and,  especially,  women  —  asked  to  be  introduced 
to  her.  She  had  the  agreeable  feeling  that  she  had 
made  a  good  impression,  and  this  conviction  was 
assured  in  her  mind  not  so  much  by  the  warm  re 
ception  given  her  by  the  public  as  by  the  silent 
glance  and  pressure  of  the  hand  whereby  Chlodwig 
Helmer  had  expressed  his  satisfaction  on  the  plat 
form  after  she  had  finished. 

Baron  Malhof  now  mingled  with  the  group  that 
surrounded  her.  He  offered  her  his  arm:  "Come, 
please.  Your  aunts  are  eager  to  offer  you  their  con 
gratulations.  " 

"Really?"  exclaimed  Franka,  astonished,  as  she 
took  Malhof 's  arm  and  went  with  him.  "I  should 
never  have  believed  it. " 

At  the  other  end  of  the  hall  sat  the  two  old  ladies 
and  Coriolan. 

"Here  I  come,  bringing  the  conquering  heroine," 
said  Malhof. 

Countess  Adele  moved  along  on  her  sofa  to  give 
room  for  Franka.  "You  surprised  me  ...  to  talk 
so  long  at  one  stretch  without  stammering  and  with 
no  paper  in  your  hand  .  .  .  that  is  remarkable. 

253 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  .WILL  SOAR 

It  is  plain  that  you  have  had  much  practice.  Are 
n't  you  very  tired?" 

"  I  am  a  little  used  up.  ...  I  have  been  dreading 
all  day  the  ordeal  of  speaking ;  —  before  so  many 
people  ...  I  mean  those  out  in  the  wide  world 
.  .  .  and  also  to  a  certain  degree  before  you.  I 
realize  how  little  you  approve  of  my  speaking  and 
of  what  I  say. " 

"Well,  that  is  quite  true,"  said  Aunt  Albertine. 

Coriolan  wanted  for  once  to  be  courteous :  "Well, 
I  must  admit,  your  voice  is  very  pleasant  and  you 
do  look  very  beautiful." 

"But  you  ought  to  wear  gloves,"  remarked 
Albertine;  "you  notice,  don't  you,  that  everybody 
wears  gloves?" 

Franka  smiled.  "  But  have  you  nothing  to  say 
about  the  subject  of  my  address?  " 

"  If  you  were  to  kill  me,"  replied  Coriolan,  "  I 
could  not  tell  you  now  what  you  talked  about.  I 
am  incapable  of  following  a  lecture  for  five  minutes 
consecutively.  ...  I  only  know  that  you  preached, 
girls  ought  to  be  like  men,  and  men  like  girls  .  .  . 
and,  truly,  that  is  not  to  my  taste.  It  would  be  a 
fine  muddle  —  but  it  is  the  end  and  aim  of  all 
modern  movements  —  the  topsy-turvy  world !  For 
tunately,  it  is  not  so  easily  turned  topsy-turvy,  and 
whatever  you  may  talk  —  man  remains  man,  and 
woman  remains  woman  —  and  that  is  as  it  ought  to 
be." 

The  old  countess  came  to  Franka's  aid:  "Franka 
only  urged  that  both  ought  to  be  better,  and  that 
surely  could  not  do  any  harm  to  mankind.  But  there. 

254 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  one  thing  that  I  should  like  to  blame  you  for, 
Franka.  If  you  really  want  to  improve  people, 
why  do  you  not  draw  their  attention  to  the  injunc 
tions  of  our  holy  Faith?  And  if  you  call  atten 
tion  to  the  virtues  of  women,  why  do  you  forget 
the  most  womanly  and  most  important  —  piety? 
As  far  as  I  can  remember,  you  did  not  say  one  single 
word  about  religion." 

"  I  spoke  of  goodness,  of  mercy,  and  of  mildness  — 
is  not  that  religion?" 

"But,  my  dear  friends,"  cried  Malhof  at  this 
juncture,  "Miss  Garlett  is  certainly  not  an  officer 
in  the  Salvation  Army.  Moreover,  as  far  as  con 
cerns  these  religious  dogmas  .  .  .  ' 

Countess  Adele  evidently  wanted  to  turn  the 
conversation  from  this  theme,  for  Malhof  s  skepti 
cism  was  well  known  to  her:  "Franka,  tell  me  where 
are  you  going,  when  this  week  is  ended?  Don't  you 
want  to  come  to  the  Sielenburg  for  a  while?" 

"What  am  I  going  to  do?  I  have  not  the  slightest 
idea;  I  have  an  invitation  to  London,  but  I  am  hesi 
tating.  If  I  go  back  to  Austria,  then  I  will  make  you 
a  visit  at  the  Sielenburg.  But  now,  I  will  say  good- 
evening.  We  shall  meet  again  to-morrow." 

She  had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  Prince  Victor 
Adolph  joined  her. 

"At  last  I  can  tell  you,  my  dear  young  lady,  how 
fascinating  —  but,  no,  I  will  not  pay  you  compli 
ments;  but  I  should  like  to  have  a  little  serious 
discussion  with  you  on  what  I  heard  you  say  this 
evening.  You  were  fascinating,  that  is  a  fact,  but 
that  is  not  the  point.  What  I  want  to  talk  about  is 

255 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  meaning  and  the  scope  of  what  you  put  before 
us.  Your  idea  certainly  was  not  to  please,  but  to 
attain  something  definite,  was  n't  it?  This  is  what  I 
should  like  to  ask  you  about  —  your  purpose.  It  is 
not  altogether  clear  to  me." 

"So  you  expect  me  to  give  you  a  private  lesson 
on  the  Woman  Question?  Very  good,  you  may  ask 
what  you  desire  to  know,  and  I  will  answer." 

"Here  is  no  place  for  a  serious,  undisturbed  con 
versation,  among  all  these  people  fluttering  about. 
Might  I  do  myself  the  honor  of  calling  on  you  some 
afternoon?" 

"Certainly,  Your  Highness." 

"Then  perhaps  to-morrow?" 

She  nodded:  "Yes,  to-morrow  at  three  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  XX 

ANOTHER  LETTER  FROM  CHLODWIG  HELMER 

THAT  night  Helmer  could  not  sleep.  The  experiences 
of  the  day  had  deeply  agitated  him.  First,  the 
morning  call  on  Franka.  The  feeling  of  panic  which 
she  had  so  confidingly  confessed  to  him,  had  seemed 
to  transfer  itself  to  him.  What  if  she  should  suffer 
discomfiture  on  that  day,  when,  so  to  speak,  the 
whole  world  was  directing  its  eyes  on  her?  That 
would  embitter  her  whole  career,  and  he  felt  that 
he  was  responsible  for  her  career. 

The  crises  had  been  successfully  passed;  Franka 
had  borne  herself  gallantly  and  had  won  a  striking 
success,  but  this  had  not  lessened  his  agitation  and 
the  success  did  not  seem  to  him  sufficient.  It  had 
not  shown  itself  in  the  eager  adherence  of  enthusi 
asts,  filled  with  gratitude  and  devotion,  but  in  the 
condescending  applause  of  a  curious  and  well-amused 
theater  audience.  To  him  she  was  a  priestess,  and 
to  the  whole  people  yonder  she  was  a  —  diva.  Had 
she  not  done  a  priest-like  and  heroic  act?  Had  she 
not  sacrificed  herself  in  order  to  offer  to  the  world  a 
part  of  what  appeared  to  her  as  truth  and  wisdom  — 
only  to  give  others,  not  herself,  a  little  more  hap 
piness?  For  herself,  indeed,  she  had  treasures  of 
happiness  at  her  disposal  —  youth,  beauty,  wealth, 
freedom.  Everything  stood  open  before  her:  a  life 
in  the  great  world,  with  all  its  enjoyments  of  luxury 

257 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  pleasure,  a  life  of  love  at  the  side  of  a  man  who 
worshiped  her,  the  joys  of  motherhood,  .  .  .  and  all 
this  she  had  thrown  over  in  order  to  devote  herself 
wholly  and  entirely  to  the  duties  and  cares  of  an 
apostleship  .  .  . 

"Oh,  my  poor  Franka,  my  noble,  sweet  .  .  ." 
With  these  words,  spoken  aloud,  he  interrupted 
the  course  of  his  thoughts.  He  was  alarmed  at  the 
tender  expression  of  his  own  voice  —  could  it  be 
that  he  really  was  in  love  with  her?  At  this  question 
other  considerations  occurred  to  him  —  circumstances 
which  had  mightily  affected  him  in  the  last  few  days : 
the  offering  of  the  violets  .  .  .  and  then,  after  the 
address,  just  as  he  was  about  to  go  down  into  the 
hall  to  speak  with  Franka,  there  stood  the  prince 
again  at  her  side.  ...  It  had  caused  a  flaming  agony 
to  dart  through  his  heart.  ...  So  he  was  jealous, 
was  he?  It  was  not  to  be  denied  —  he  loved  her! 
And  even  as  he  confessed  the  soft  impeachment, 
he  realized  it  as  a  heavy  load  of  trouble,  but  at  the 
same  time  so  delightful,  that  not  for  the  world  would 
he  have  been  willing  to  get  rid  of  it.  And  was  it  really 
a  new  love;  was  it  not  rather  one  long  kindled,  which 
for  years  had  been  smouldering  and  had  now  burst 
into  flame?  Was  not  possibly  this  old  sentiment  the 
reason  why  in  all  these  years,  in  spite  of  many  more 
or  less  transient  love-affairs,  he  had  never  been  able 
to  let  his  heart  go  completely?  As  a  dramatic  poet 
he  had  enjoyed  many  opportunities  of  frequenting 
the  theater  behind  the  scenes  and  many  an  adven 
ture  had  come  in  his  way.  One  of  them  was  an  af 
fair  which  lasted  two  years.  But  it  had  not  brought 

258 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ease  to  his  heart;  rather  it  had  become  a  burden. 
Fortunately  it  had  been  broken  off  gradually  and 
without  pain  on  either  side.  For  some  time  he  had 
been  quite  free,  and  was  able  to  say  that  he  had 
never  been  under  the  spell  of  a  genuine  passion.  Al 
ways  this  or  that  quality  had  not  quite  satisfied  him 
in  those  by  whom  he  was  attracted;  always  he  had 
discovered  that  they  lacked  something;  and  the 
secret  of  it  was,  that  he  compared  them  all  with 
Franka  Garlett;  not  one  of  them  came  up  to  that 
ideal. 

The  following  morning  a  letter  was  brought  to 
Franka.  She  was  sitting  again  on  her  balcony  and 
looking  out  over  the  forest.  Her  first  thought  was, 
that  the  missive  came  from  Victor  Adolph,  but  a 
glance  at  the  handwriting  dispelled  this  assumption 
—  the  letter  was  from  Helmer.  She  tore  open  the 
envelope  and  read :  — 

Two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  It  is  in  vain  —  I  cannot 
sleep.  Racing  pulse  and  whirling  thoughts  deprive  me  of  all 
possibility  of  rest.  Now  it  occurs  to  me  that  I  have  the 
prescriptive  right  to  address  a  letter  at  rare  intervals  to 
a  sister-soul  with  whom  I  may  commune  most  intimately. 

I  am  making  use  of  this  right  and  I  have  sat  down  at  my 
desk.  It  stands  by  the  open  window  and  bright  moon 
light  is  streaming  into  the  room.  Only  this  sheet  of  paper 
is  illuminated  by  my  shaded  lamp  —  the  rest  of  the  room 
is  all  bathed  in  soft,  silvery  blue.  I  had  put  on  my  clothes 
to  take  a  stroll  in  the  garden  and  to  cool  my  fever  in  the 
moon-enchanted  night  air.  But  I  can  put  before  you 
something  of  the  overflow  of  my  thoughts.  You  yourself 
are  the  center  of  these  thoughts.  What  has  so  disturbed 
me  is  the  experience  that  I  went  through  to-day  on 
Account  of  you  and  because  of  you.  And  in  this  emotion 

259 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

so  much  was  revealed  to  my  consciousness  concerning 
you  and  myself  .  .  .  but  I  am  going  to  write  you  here  only 
of  what  concerns  you,  what  touches  your  life.  I  leave 
myself  out  of  the  question.  It  would  be  very  enticing 
now,  when  I  am  coming  to  you  for  refuge  in  this  moment 
of  restlessness  and  loneliness,  to  make  you  the  confidante 
of  my  trouble,  —  for  I  have  that,  —  but  it  is  my  own 
secret. 

Now  let  me  speak  of  you  and  your  address.  I  had  no 
opportunity  of  talking  with  you  about  it.  You  disap 
peared  in  the  hall;  first  you  were  surrounded  by  the 
Sielenburg  people  and  then  you  were  accosted  by  the 
prince.  Shortly  afterwards  you  retired,  evidently  ex 
hausted  by  your  triumph.  For  it  was  a  triumph  in  spite 
of  the  panic  which  tormented  you  in  the  morning.  You 
spoke  with  sovereign  assurance,  and  said  all  that  was 
to  be  said.  Indeed,  you  went  beyond  your  accustomed 
domain,  —  the  education  of  women  for  an  intellectual 
participation  in  the  questions  of  the  day ;  you  entered  the 
domain  of  actual  feminism  —  for  you  pleaded  for  practi 
cal  cooperation  of  women  in  government  and  lawmaking. 
But  such  general  and  abstract  considerations  do  little 
toward  the  attainment  of  this  end.  The  gradual  conquest 
of  the  whole  will  be  accomplished  only  by  practical  work 
ers  in  details,  doing  practical  things,  here  one  and  there 
one,  thousands  of  them  in  thousands  of  different  places. 
And  this  development  is  already  in  full  swing,  though  it 
still  lags  far  behind  the  ideal  which  you  have  foreseen. 

Yet,  what  am  I  driving  at?  Here  I  am  speaking  also  of 
generalities  which  do  not  interest  me  at  this  moment. 
What  interests  me  now  is  yourself,  is  your  life.  My  con 
science  reproaches  me  that  when  you  gave  me  all  your 
confidence,  as  to  a  brother  in  the  spirit,  I  pointed  out  to 
you  this  path  where  you  are  entirely  forgetting  yourself. 
I  was  the  one  who  suggested  the  word  "Renunciation"  as 
the  countersign  of  that  path. 

Yet  I  recall  that  I  added :  this  full  devotion  to  the  cause 
would  be  demanded  only  for  a  few  years.  These  years  are 

260 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

now  past.  Your  duty,  as  far  as  you  could  fulfill  it,  is  ful 
filled.  With  generous  hands  you  have  scattered  the  seed 
of  great  ideas  into  the  world  of  women.  You  have  called 
into  existence  the  Garlett  Academy,  and  lavished  a  large 
part  of  your  fortune  on  it  —  it  is  working  on  in  your  spirit. 
The  congregation  of  the  "  Frankistinnen "  has  been 
formed  and  is  spreading.  It  is  no  longer  necessary  for  you 
to  throw  your  whole  self  into  the  work  of  the  propaganda; 
it  will  go  forward  henceforth  automatically.  Let  your 
address  of  to-day  be  the  last  of  your  public  addresses. 

It  will  find  an  echo  in  a  thousand  places  —  it  will  be 
perpetuated  in  the  "Rose  Annals"  —  it  makes  a  brilliant 
finale.  Laboriously  and  courageously  and  persistently, 
you  have  put  your  shoulder  to  the  wheel  to  set  it  in 
motion ;  —  now  it  is  in  full  motion  .  .  .  what  is  the  use  of 
pushing  it  any  more?  Time  will  bring  you  other  work;  but 
there  is  no  reason  for  you  to  go  out  and  seek  work  —  you 
must  think  of  living,  you  must  think  of  your  own  still 
fresh,  joy-deserving  life.  You  are  here  also  "to  share  in 
loving,"  Franka.  And  now  I  come  back  to  Prince  Victor 
Adolph.  I  believe  he  worships  you.  He  is  no  ordinary 
man.  I  have  trustworthy  information  as  to  his  worthi 
ness.  Do  not  do  violence  to  your  heart  if  it  beats  for  him. 

Having  reached  this  point,  Franka  dropped  the 
sheet  into  her  lap  —  she  had  not  expected  this. 
The  first  words  of  the  letter,  "racing  pulse  and 
whirling  thoughts,"  thoughts  which  complemented 
her  picture  —  she  would  sooner  have  been  prepared 
for  his  appealing  to  her  heart  for  himself  and  not 
for  another.  Well,  it  was  better  so.  In  this  way 
her  "Brother  Chlodwig"  was  not  lost  to  her. 

She  had  no  idea  what  it  had  cost  him.  At  the  very 
place  where  she  ceased  reading,  he  had  ceased  writing. 
He  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  and,  clasping  his  head  in 
both  hands,  had  groaned  aloud.  He  paced  several 

261 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

times  up  and  down  the  room  in  his  excitement.  Then 
he  leaned  out  of  the  window  and  gazed  toward  the 
horizon  which  already  betrayed  a  pallid  premoni 
tion  of  the  early  dawn.  The  moon  was  veiled  in 
passing  clouds  and  one  or  two  stars  were  twinkling. 
"One  may  not  yearn  to  grasp  the  stars!"  Have  I 
not  often  repeated  this  to  myself?  He  was  vexed 
with  himself.  This  jealous  emotion  seemed  to  him 
senseless,  unworthy.  He  must  and  would  crush  it 
down,  and  the  very  best  way  before  him  was  to  help 
Franka  to  incline  to  the  prince.  And  so  he  went  on 
writing:  — 

I  really  believe  that  an  alliance  with  this  royal  prince 
might  make  you  happy  in  several  directions :  first  through 
merely  loving  —  that  crown  of  life  —  why  should  you  not 
make  it  yours?  And  secondly,  if  the  opportunity  is  given 
you,  to  work  for  your,  for  our,  ideals  (and  in  this  word 
' '  our ' '  I  include  also  the  spirit  of  your  father) .  Only  think 
what  might  be  accomplished  in  this  important,  influential 
position.  How  the  young  prince  would  be  strengthened 
and  inspired  by  you  in  his  bold,  independent  ideas. 
There  is  certainly  no  genuine  happiness  on  earth  for  the 
like  of  us,  unless  we  continue  to  work  for  the  great  objects 
which  our  longing  eyes  have  beheld.  We  cannot,  as  long 
as  we  live,  cease  our  efforts.  In  the  midst  of  every  other 
kind  of  happiness  this  work  remains  our  chief  desire,  as 
it  is  our  consolation  in  every  misfortune.  In  my  own 
trouble  —  I  confessed  to  you  that  I  have  trouble  —  I  am 
still  with  the  half  of  my  soul  —  the  better  half  of  my  soul 
—  at  my  task.  You  have  already  fulfilled  your  task  for 
the  Rose- Week  Festival.  Before  me  is  still  my  reading 
in  the  presence  of  the  whole  world.  I  am  not  —  like 
Franka  Garlett  —  used  to  public  speaking ;  my  tool  is  the 
pen.  So  I  look  forward  to  this  ordeal  not  without  trem 
bling,  yet  not  without  pleasure.  It  is  a  splendid  opportu- 

262 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

nity  to  pour  out  what  fills  the  soul  to  overflowing.  I  burn 
to  be  heard  and  understood.  Not  because  I  flatter  myself 
that  I  have  something  beautiful  to  say,  but  something 
that  may  bring  help.  But  how  to  find  the  right  words? 

The  things  that  float  before  my  mind  are  so  dazzling 
and  so  new,  while  the  words  that  one  has  at  one's  disposal 
are  so  banal  and  so  flat.  The  sublimest  concepts,  like 
goodness,  freedom,  right,  have  become  dimmed  by  so 
many  editorials,  committee  speeches,  and  election  procla 
mations,  that  they  have  lost  all  their  brilliancy  —  what  is 
worse,  all  their  value.  The  lofty  thoughts  mined  from  the 
new  time  lie  in  bars,  like  gold,  but  in  order  to  bring  them 
into  circulation,  one  must  first  coin  them  into  new  words, 
while  we  have  only  thin  and  worn  coins  to  pass.  If  we 
come  to  the  modern  man  —  I  mean  a  man  with  broad 
philosophical  and  aesthetic  views  —  with  these  morality- 
dripping  words  (a  morality  which  has  been  amply 
preached  but  never  practiced  in  all  these  thousands  of 
years),  then  it  moves  him  like  the  admonition,  "Be  a 
good  little  boy,"  spoken  to  a  grown-up  man. 

It  is  beginning  to  dawn  —  this  is  no  metaphor:  you 
know  the  old  fault  of  my  style  of  letter-writing,  but  this 
time  I  have  really  had  no  other  meaning  —  it  is  beginning 
to  grow  light.  In  order  to  scare  away  the  torment  of 
sleepless  night  hours,  I  have  written  till  morning.  In  the 
foliage-crowned  trees  awakens  the  twittering  of  birds. 
What  is  it  that  they  have  to  say  to  one  another  every  day 
at  waking  and  every  evening  before  they  compose  them 
selves  to  sleep? 

Now  I  am  going  to  shut  my  window,  pull  down  the 
Venetian  blinds,  and  try  to  get  a  little  rest.  It  has  re 
freshed  me  writing  to  you.  Perhaps  I  may  have  a  nap  — 
perhaps  even  a  dream.  .  .  . 

CHLODWIG. 

Franka  and  Helmer  sat  together  as  usual  at  lunch 
eon.  Franka  had  come  in  a  little  late. 

263 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Well,"  said  she,  as  she  took  her  place,  "did  you 
have  your  dream?" 

"Yes,  I  dreamed  about  you.  I  saw  you  standing 
on  the  platform  again  and  ..." 

"And  it  was  to  be  for  the  last  time,  was  it?"  in 
terrupted  Franka.  "You  wrote  me,  didn't  you, 
because  it  would  be  easier  than  to  say  to  me,  by 
word  of  mouth,  during  breakfast:  'Miss  Garlett, 
you  spoke  very  indifferently.  You  are  no  longer 
accomplishing  your  work  —  retire ! ' ' 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Chlodwig,  pained,  "did  you 
understand  me  so?" 

"The  principal  thing  I  understood  was  that  you 
were  in  a  very  melancholy  and  excited  frame  of  mind 
and  came  to  me  for  comfort :  that  delights  me.  And 
one  thing  more  —  you  desire  my  happiness.  But 
do  you  really  think  it  beckons  in  the  direction  you 
suppose?  Two  or  three  bunches  of  violets  are  hardly 
to  be  regarded  as  an  offer  of  marriage.  LTp  to  the 
present  time,  I  have  not  the  slightest  ground  for 
supposing  that  Prince  Victor  Adolph  has  ever 
thought  of  such  a  thing." 

"He  has  not  intimated  to  you  that  he  is  in  love 
with  you?"  This  question  was  in  a  jubilant  tone. 

"No,  and  if  he  should  do  so,  do  you  know  what 
.  .  .  what  I  ...  well,  I  confess,  I  am  not  quite  cer 
tain  myself.  .  .  .  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better 
if  you  had  not  suggested  such  a  thing  .  .  .  you  have 
kindled  a  spark  in  my  heart." 

Their  dialogue,  carried  on  in  an  undertone,  was 
interrupted  by  Mr.  Toker,  who  from  the  other  side 
of  the  table  engaged  Franka  in  conversation. 

264 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

After  the  luncheon  was  finished  and  the  company 
had  drifted  into  the  adjoining  salons,  Gwendoline 
took  Franka's  arm. 

"Oh,  Miss  Garlett,"  said  she  in  a  voice  trembling 
with  emotion,  "I  must  thank  you.  You  have  no 
idea  what  an  impression  you  made  on  me,  you  fill 
me  with  admiration  ..." 

Franka  made  the  courteous  deprecatory  sign 
with  her  head  with  which  we  are  accustomed  to  re 
ceive  flattering  phrases. 

"No,  no,  no!"  cried  the  young  American  girl 
vehemently,  "I  should  not  be  so  presumptuous, 
stupid  thing  that  I  am,  to  pay  you  mere  compli 
ments.  I  wanted  just  to  tell  you  what  feelings  you 
awakened  in  me  .  .  .  not  merely  agreeable  feelings 
—  for  it  is  certainly  not  agreeable  to  be  made 
ashamed  of  one's  self,  when  one  has  hard  things  to 
say  to  one's  own  face;  as,  for  example:  'You  are  cer 
tainly  an  empty-headed  creature,  Gwen!  You  must 
decidedly  improve,  my  girl,  if  you  want  to  rise  again 
in  my  estimation*  .  .  ." 

"And  why  did  you  speak  so  disrespectfully  to 
MissToker?" 

"Oh,  you  understand  me  perfectly.  You  know 
right  well,  when  you  address  young  girls,  that 
hitherto  very,  very  few  among  them  have  ever 
thought  with  you.  I  belong  to  the  majority.  I  have 
always  kept  aloof  from  serious  things;  for  instance, 
I  have  not  the  slightest  remembrance  what  that 
clever  Frenchman  said  yesterday  —  my  attention 
was  wholly  diverted  to  the  various  groups  in  the 
hall,  for  I  had  discovered  several  comical  people. 

265 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

When  you  began  to  speak,  I  was  interested  in  the  way 
the  folds  of  your  gown  fell  —  there  was  something 
Greek  about  it.  Who  knows,  whether  I  should  have 
listened  to  your  words  at  all,  if  you  had  not  sud 
denly  addressed  your  speech  directly  to  young  girls. 
Then  I  had  to  listen  to  what  you  had  to  say  to  me, 
and  after  that  I  did  not  lose  another  word.  I  did  not 
understand  it  all,  nor  can  I  remember  it  all,  but  so 
much  I  know  —  I  should  like  to  be  your  pupil.  Do 
teach  me  to  think,  show  me  my  place  in  the  world, 
so  that  I  may  accomplish  something,  be  of  some 
use.  .  .  .  You  see,  papa  has  always  treated  me  as  a 
child,  and  I  have  never  been  interested  in  his  plans: 
I  never  thought  that  there  was  anything  in  them 
for  us  young  people  .  .  ." 

"Oh,"  cried  Franka,  "it  is  precisely  the  young 
and  the  youngest  who  are  called  and  who  are  ca 
pable  of  walking  in  new  paths.  For  that  reason  we 
all  (I  mean,  we  whose  aspirations  are  directed  to  the 
future)  look  with  such  hope  to  America,  for  there 
the  whole  land  is  so  young  ..." 

"And  we  Americans  look  so  timidly  and  admir 
ingly  up  to  Europe,  because  it  is  old  and  venerable. 
All  we  have,  we  have  from  you." 

"And  you  are  going  to  repay  us  richly  for  that. 
For  what  is  going  to  ameliorate  our  future,  —  inven 
tions,  wealth,  free  institutions,  peace,  —  all  that  you 
will  carry  over  to  us.  Mr.  Toker  is  a  messenger 
of  that  kind." 

"Oh,  my  dear  father  ...  I  fear  I  do  not  know 
him  as  I  should." 

Gwendoline  went  on  to  explain  that  she  had  never 
266 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

lived  very  much  in  her  father's  society.  In  her  child 
hood,  she  had  been  almost  entirely  in  her  grand 
mother's  hands,  as  her  mother  had  died  when  she 
was  born ;  and  then,  when  six  years  ago  the  grand 
mother  died,  the  child,  then  eleven,  was  entrusted 
to  a  Swiss  Pensionat,  from  which  only  the  year  be 
fore  she  had  returned  to  her  own  country.  In  this 
excellent  Pensionat  she  had  received  the  usual  edu 
cation  of  young  ladies  —  that  is  to  say,  to  take  a 
part  rather  in  dancing  than  in  thinking.  She  had 
got  only  one  idea  there  of  the  Woman  Movement 
—  that  it  was  a  far  from  elegant  aberration  of 
high-strung  females.  What  Franka  had  said  about 
it  was  a  revelation  to  her.  Now  she  felt  she  must 
and  would  accomplish  something  —  Miss  Garlett 
must  instruct  and  advise  her  further. 

Franka  now  felt  obliged  to  tear  herself  away 
from  this  interview.  She  was  expecting  a  caller. 
She  kissed  the  eager  young  disciple,  whose  attitude 
toward  her  filled  her  with  joyous  pride.  "To-morrow 
we  will  talk  further  about  this,  my  dear  girl ;  I  must 
go  now." 

She  summoned  Frau  von  Rockhaus  and  went  with 
her  to  her  rooms.  Shortly  afterwards  Prince  Vic 
tor  Adolph  was  announced.  Franka  went  forward 
to  greet  him.  Frau  Eleonore,  who  was  sitting  near 
the  window,  stood  up  and  curtseyed,  but  immedi 
ately  resumed  her  seat,  for  the  call  did  not  concern 
her. 

Franka's  heart  began  to  beat  more  quickly. 
"Helmer  is  to  blame  for  this,"  said  she  to  herself 
with  vexation. 

267 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

After  the  first  interchange  of  greetings  and  after 
they  had  sat  down  the  prince  said :  — 

"Permit  me  to  enter  in  medias  res  without  delay, 
and  ask  you  the  questions  which  I  have  on  my 
mind." 

He  did  not  speak  loud.  Frau  von  Rockhaus,  who 
from  her  remote  corner  was  visible  de  profil  perdu, 
could  not  hear  what  was  said. 

"Well,  I  am  ready  to  listen,"  said  Franka,  and 
raised  her  eyes  to  her  visitor. 

Once  more  she  realized  that  she  had  never  seen 
a  handsomer  and  more  elegant  man  than  this  young 
prince.  Yet,  in  his  attitude  there  was  a  certain 
haughty,  peculiarly  unbending  reserve  —  more  no 
ticeable  if  possible  than  ever.  It  was  as  if  something 
had  annoyed  him. 

"  I  heard  you  yesterday  for  the  second  time,  Miss 
Garlett.  You  spoke  as  eloquently  as  you  did  the 
first  time,  perhaps  even  more  so;  but  you  crossed 
over  into  another  field  where  I  could  not  well  follow 
you." 

"How  so?    I  still  treat  the  same  question." 

"  But  from  a  different  standpoint.  When  I  heard 
you  in  Germany,  you  protested  that  you  were  not 
going  to  stand  for  the  current  aims  of  feminism  — 
the  franchise,  candidacy  for  all  public  offices,  and  the 
like;  that  sort  of  thing  you  would  leave  to  others. 
You  would  only  urge  that  women  should  cultivate 
their  intellect  sufficiently  to  interest  themselves  in 
political  and  social  life,  so  that  by  their  influence 
they  might  be  capable  of  imparting  something  of 
feminine  virtues  into  the  conduct  of  political  and 

268 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

social  affairs  .  .  .  that  is  what  I  understood  you  to 
say." 

"You  understood  quite  correctly,  Your  High 
ness." 

"And  suddenly  yesterday  you  began  to  join  in 
all  the  extreme  demands  of  the  Women's  Rights 
party,  —  female  voters,  female  members  of  Parlia 
ment  —  how  can  I  tell  to  what  extent  they  would 
go  ...  no  ...  there  I  am  opposed.  Perhaps  I  am 
reactionary,  but  I  shudder  at  the  mere  thought  of 
seeing  women  —  delicate,  lovely  women  —  dragged 
about  in  the  dusty  battle-field." 

"Do  you  mean  Parliaments?  Parliaments  need 
not  be  dusty  and  need  not  be  battle-fields,  but 
places  for  work." 

"  Why  yes,  you  expect  that  all  will  be  changed. 
But  that  is  the  very  thing  I  dread.  There  is  so 
much  that  is  fine,  it  would  be  a  pity  to  change  it  — 
in  other  words,  to  destroy  it.  As,  for  example,  sup 
pose  one  were  to  cultivate  nothing  but  vegetables 
instead  of  flowers.  Of  course,  it  would  be  more  use 
ful.  And  the  captivating  types  of  women  who  are 
to  be  found  in  our  present  state  of  civilization  — 
to  see  them  all  disappear  —  that  would  be,  indeed, 
deplorable.  And  must  every  woman  have  a  calling? 
Wife,  mother,  sweetheart  —  are  not  those  also 
callings?" 

"There  is  no  need  of  excluding  others  —  just  like 
husband,  father,  lover!" 

"They  are  not  to  be  compared.  Oh,  it  has  often 
been  lamented  that  the  world  is  robbed  of  its  gods 
—  I  tremble  at  the  thought  that  it  may  be  robbed 

269 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

of  its  feminine  elements.  I  question  whether  this 
whole  movement  for  equality  —  because  it  is  con 
trary  to  nature  —  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  tem 
porary  aberration,  now  and  again  doing  harm  and 
destined  to  disappear.  Please  give  me  your  ideas 
about  this." 

Franka  interrupted  him  with  an  impatient  move 
ment  of  her  hand.  The  trend  of  the  conversation 
affected  her  unpleasantly.  "Excuse  me,  Your  High 
ness,  I  cannot  give  you  a  second  lecture!  I  should 
not  convert  you,  for  your  objection  does  not  rest 
on  grounds  of  reason,  but  is  rather  instinctive  and 
therefore  especially  vehement.  Nor  have  I  the  wish 
to  convert  you.  My  specialty,  as  you  yourself  have 
remarked,  is  certainly  not  that  of  the  militant  femi 
nist.  It  is  remarkable,  what  an  effect  my  yester 
day's  address  has  produced :  it  moved  a  good  friend 
to  advise  me  to  give  up  the  whole  thing  —  while  it 
made  the  brilliant  daughter  of  the  house  my  enthu 
siastic  disciple;  and  it  entirely  revolted  you,  Your 
Highness." 

Victor  Adolph  started:  "Good  Heavens,  how  can 
you  use  such  a  word  —  revolt !  Your  address  en 
chanted  me,  as  your  whole  being  enchants  me,  but 
the  theme  —  yes,  you  are  quite  right  —  aroused  an 
instinctive  antipathy.  And  it  would  have  been 
pleasant  to  me  if  you  had  been  willing  to  explain 
your  meaning,  yet  this  expectation  was  presump 
tuous.  Do  not  be  angry  with  me. " 

He  rose  and  took  his  leave.  Franka  did  not  at 
tempt  to  detain  him. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

NEW  WONDERS 

THE  programme  of  that  evening  began  with  an 
aviation  festival  over  the  lake.  A  surprise  had  been 
prepared:  the  first  trial  of  a  new  method  of  flight. 
The  invention  had  been  worked  out  and  tested 
privately  under  John  Toker's  patronage ;  this  day  it 
was  to  be  exhibited  before  the  world. 

The  festival  began  at  six  o'clock.  The  weather 
was  marvelously  fine.  A  cloudless  blue  sky,  the 
temperature,  seasonable  for  June,  was  warm,  but 
agreeably  moderated  by  a  cool  breeze  which  ruffled 
the  surface  of  the  lake.  On  the  shores  a  fleet  of 
boats  was  arrayed  with  streamers  and  flowers,  and 
provided  with  rugs  and  soft  pillows.  On  the  op 
posite  side  lay  a  number  of  passenger  vessels,  the 
decks  of  which  had  been  hired  for  spectators.  The 
population  of  Lucerne  stood  in  dense  throngs  along 
the  lake.  Excitement  and  anticipation  stirred 
through  the  crowd.  The  spectacle  of  aeroplanes  and 
flying  machines  had,  indeed,  already  by  this  time 
lost  its  heart-thrilling  fascination.  It  wras  no  longer 
as  in  1909  and  1910,  when  the  sight  of  these  pioneers 
of  the  upper  air  seemed  to  take  one's  very  breath 
away,  when  they  still  seemed  to  be  both  dream  and 
miracle.  The  device  had  now  become  extremely 
common  everywhere:  in  many  places  airships  were 
making  regular  trips,  aeroplanes  had  been  adopted 

271 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

widely  as  vehicles  of  sport  and  luxury,  just  as  auto 
mobiles  had  several  years  before,  and  every  nation 
possessed  its  little  air-fleet.  No  one  longer  uttered 
the  exclamation,  "Ah!"  when  a  flyer  shot  up  into 
the  air  —  the  marvel  had  become  a  commonplace  — 
was  simply  taken  for  granted. 

But  on  this  occasion,  expectation  had  been  once 
more  keyed  to  the  highest  pitch.  It  was  known  that 
when  Toker  promised  a  surprise,  something  sensa 
tional  was  going  to  be  produced,  something  that 
was  not  only  magnificent  and  unprecedented,  but 
also  of  vital  significance  and  calculated  to  give  con 
temporary  society  an  uplift  into  new  regions. 

A  programme  had  been  issued  for  the  aviation 
festival.  At  six  o'clock  commencement  of  evolu 
tions  in  the  air  over  the  lake;  at  seven  o'clock:  a 
surprise  announced  by  three  cannon  shots. 

More  than  half  an  hour  before  the  specified  hour, 
the  boats,  the  vessels,  the  wharves,  and  also  the 
windows  and  balconies  of  the  villas  and  the  hotels 
facing  the  lake  were  packed.  At  the  stroke  of  six, 
the  Toker  flotilla  of  flying-machines  ascended  and 
began  to  perform  their  evolutions. 

"Those  aeroplanes  are  masked  and  costumed," 
cried  one  of  the  spectators,  and  that  exactly  ex 
pressed  it.  These  air-vehicles  had  the  shape  of  all 
kinds  of  historical  and  imaginary  equipages.  The 
primitive  type  of  superposed  and  juxtaposed  frames 
without  sides  was  no  longer  affected.  The  wonderful 
things  swept  slowly,  one  behind  the  other,  at  a  com 
paratively  low  elevation,  circling  about  the  lake,  as 
far  as  it  was  peopled  with  spectators. 

272 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Now  the  throng  really  uttered  its  "Ah!"  for  such 
graceful  vessels  had  never  before  been  seen  in  the 
air.  Slender  ships  with  inflated  sails,  Roman  char 
iots,  Venetian  gondolas,  Lohengrin  swans,  enor 
mous  shells  glittering  in  mother  of  pearl  and  the 
like,  were  occupied  by  aviators,  appropriately  cos 
tumed.  The  planes  and  apparatus  used  for  pro 
pulsion  and  steering  were  concealed  with  plenty  of 
white  and  gray  material,  which  looked  like  clouds, 
giving  a  magically  picturesque  effect.  A  manufac 
turer  of  flying-machines,  present  among  the  spec 
tators,  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  remarked  to  a 
bystander:  "Child's  play  with  masquerade!" 

Several  hundred  metres  high  in  the  air  above  the 
heads  of  the  spectators  circled  a  great  airship  of  the 
Zeppelin  type.  That,  according  to  the  rumor,  was 
to  be  the  bearer  of  the  surprise. 

Franka  sat  in  one  of  the  boats  with  her  companion 
and  several  other  of  Toker's  house-guests.  General 
conversation  was  going  on,  and  Franka,  leaning 
back  on  her  cushion, gave  herself  up  to  her  thoughts. 
A  peculiar  melancholy  weighed  on  her  spirit  —  a 
feeling  of  isolation.  A  few  hours  previous  there  had 
been  awaiting  her  something  which  she  had  looked 
forward  to  with  keen  anticipation,  something  which 
promised  to  give  her  a  powerful  emotion :  —  the 
visit  of  Prince  Victor  Adolph.  Helmer  had  been 
responsible  for  this  expectation.  The  words  in  his 
letter  were,  "He  worships  you";  he  must  have 
known  it,  else  he  would  not  have  written  so  author 
itatively,  and  those  three  words  had  gone  through 
her  like  an  electric  shock.  And  what  had  the  visit 

273 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

brought  her?  A  bit  of  ill  humor,  nothing  else.  Not 
only  the  man  did  not  worship  her;  he  did  not  even 
understand  her;  her  activities  and  her  views  were 
alien  if  not  repulsive  to  him.  Fortunately,  she  was 
not  in  love  with  him  as  yet,  but  only  on  the  point 
of  being.  Consciously  she  had  felt:  It  has  not  come 
as  yet,  but  it  is  coming,  it  is  coming.  .  .  .  She  had 
heard  it  knocking  at  her  door  and  had  said,  "Come 
in!"  —  but  across  the  doorsill  entered  —  nothing. 

At  this  moment  a  mortar  shot  rang  out.  All 
looked  up  into  the  air.  The  Zeppelin  began  to  de 
scend  in  great  spirals ;  now  it  was  about  fifty  metres 
high.  The  basket  and  its  passengers  could  be 
distinctly  seen.  Three  or  four  persons  were  sitting 
in  it  and  two  forms  were  standing  close  to  the  rail. 
Another  shot:  the  rail  was  thrown  open.  For 
Heaven's  sake  —  the  two  forms  might  fall  out. 
And  sure  enough  —  for  just  here  the  third  shot  was 
heard,  and  the  two  swung  off  over  the  edge.  A  cry 
rose  from  all  throats.  The  two  figures  as  they  fell 
stretched  out  their  arms  and  with  a  quick  motion 
unfolded  a  great  pair  of  wings.  It  was  a  young  man 
and  a  young  girl.  The  youth  wore  striped  tricot 
which  gave  his  body  the  aspect  of  a  butterfly's  form 
and  the  two  wings  were  shaped  like  a  butterfly's. 
The  maiden  was  enveloped  in  a  white  flowing  robe 
which  came  down  below  her  feet;  her  face  was 
framed  in  blond  curls  and  her  wings  were  white 
and  long  like  those  frequently  depicted  as  adorn 
ing  the  shoulders  of  the  guardian  of  Paradise,  the 
Archangel  Michael,  or  those  of  the  angel  of  the 
Annunciation. 

274 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Butterfly  and  angel  floated  down  in  an  oblique, 
gently  gliding  flight.  The  throng  was  now  breath 
less  and  dumb.  In  the  center  of  the  lake  was  sta 
tioned  a  large  float ;  it  was  supposed  that  the  daring 
flyers  would  land  on  it,  but  before  they  reached  it, 
they  turned  up  from  a  height  of  five  or  six  metres, 
and,  mounting,  flew  horizontally,  came  back,  then 
flew  down,  and  mounted  again,  performing  aerial 
evolutions,  crossing  above  the  fantastic  aeroplanes, 
and  then  returned  to  the  Zeppelin  which  once  more 
received  them. 

A  tumultuous  uproar  of  applause  rang  through 
the  air.  An  immense  feeling  of  happiness  and  vic 
tory  stirred  all  hearts.  So  now  the  air  was  actually 
made  subservient  to  mankind.  Without  an  engine, 
independent  as  a  bird,  one  could  rise  from  the 
ground,  glide  through  the  air,  rise  and  sink  away, 
be  conscious  of  the  motion ;  it  was,  indeed,  an  intoxi 
cating  gain ! 

The  address  given  that  evening  in  the  theater 
auditorium  of  the  Rose-Palace  concerned  the  new 
acquisition.  The  inventor,  a  hitherto  unknown 
young  English  engineer,  gave  an  exposition  of  the 
mechanism  of  his  artificial  wings,  and  related  how 
for  some  years  in  all  secrecy,  under  Mr.  Toker's 
auspices,  he  had  been  carrying  on  his  investiga 
tions,  labors,  and  experiments  until  at  last  he  had 
been  able  to  make  a  gift  of  his  accomplished  work 
to  his  fellow-men. 

After  the  inventor  had  concluded  his  address, 
Toker  himself  stepped  forward  and  announced  that 

275 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

no  other  addresses  would  be  given  that  evening, 
but  that  the  respected  public  might  enjoy  the  con 
sciousness  that  henceforth  no  one  would  any  longer 
need  to  envy  the  birds. 

The  auditorium  was  now  transformed  into  a  social 
assembly-room  where  the  liveliest  conversation  was 
carried  on.  The  topic  of  applicable  pinions  truly 
gave  sufficient  material  for  all  sorts  of  interest 
ing  variations.  Some  rejoiced,  others  bewailed,  still 
others  tried  to  perpetrate  witticisms;  all  were  full 
of  astonishment;  exclamations  flew  about  in  merry 
confusion. 

"  I  shall  be  mighty  grateful  when  market-women, 
instead  of  swallows  and  doves,  shall  be  seen  flying 
round  in  the  air  with  their  baskets." 

"In  place  of  the  light-horse  regiment  we  shall 
now  have  regiments  of  light  birds." 

"The  joy  of  such  self -constituted  flight  must  be 
supermundane  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word." 

"The  world  grows  richer,  more  beautiful,  more 
wonderful  every  day. " 

"We  will  rather  say:  more  unpleasant,  more 
weird. " 

"Where  are  the  days  when  people  were  satisfied 
to  travel  on  two  feet  or  at  most  with  four  or  eight 
horses'  feet?  Now  we  must  have  roller-skates,  skis, 
bicycles,  motors,  balloons,  aeroplanes,  and  here  at 
last  duplex-elliptic  back-action  folding  wings." 

"Women  will  no  longer  turn  into  hyenas,  but 
rather  into  wild  geese. " 

"  Do  you  long  for  constancy  still,  my  dear  madam? 
now,  when  we  are  all  become  fly-away?" 

276 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka  had  retired  early  to  her  own  rooms.  She 
felt  quite  unstrung  and  hungry  for  solitude.  Prince 
Victor  Adolph  had  not  put  in  an  appearance  either 
on  the  water  or  in  the  hall.  Was  he  avoiding  her? 
This  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  missed  any  of 
the  exercises.  His  absence  troubled  Franka,  and 
she  drew  disagreeable  conclusions  from  it.  Her  con 
clusions,  however,  were  baseless.  The  absence  of  the 
prince  was  not  in  any  way  connected  with  Franka. 
That  afternoon,  a  near  relative  had  arrived  at 
Lucerne,  to  stay  only  a  few  hours,  and  the  prince 
had  been  obliged  to  spend  the  time  with  him.  The 
two  had  watched  the  wonderful  flights  from  the 
balcony  of  their  hotel. 

Franka  was  glad  that  Frau  Eleonore  had  not 
joined  her  in  coming  upstairs  but  had  remained 
below  in  the  hall.  Her  companion,  who  had  been 
with  her  now  for  some  years,  was  dear  and  sym 
pathetic  to  her,  but  she  had  never  admitted  her  to 
a  real  heart  intimacy.  Spiritually,  also,  the  woman 
had  never  been  to  her  what  is  called  a  "resource"; 
she  lacked  the  "uplift. "  A  cheerful,  harmless,  hon 
est  mind,  a  lady  to  her  finger-tips,  not  given  to 
narrow  judgments,  but  also  lacking  in  a  bold  out 
look,  she  had  every  quality  of  a  model  companion; 
but  she  was  far  from  being  the  ideal  of  an  intimate 
friend  such  as  Franka  really  needed.  And,  there 
fore,  in  hours  when  she  was  in  any  way  depressed, 
when  an  indefinite  yearning  came  over  her,  when 
she  meditated  on  God  and  the  world  and  herself,  she 
always  preferred  to  be  alone  rather  than  have  Frau 
Eleonore  with  her. 

277 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  stepped  out  on  the  balcony  and  leaned  against 
the  railing.  It  was  a  warm  night ;  the  air  was  heavy 
as  if  a  storm  were  threatening.  Along  the  hori 
zon  frequent  sheet-lightning  flashed  against  a  back 
ground  of  intensely  black  clouds;  above,  the  sky 
was  clear  and  the  stars  were  shining  brilliantly. 
The  fir  grove  which  bordered  the  garden  stood 
dark  with  the  white  sand-strewn  paths  meandering 
through  the  trees.  A  gentle  rustling  could  be  heard 
in  the  branches.  A  screech-owl  lamented  some 
where  in  the  distance,  and  from  the  near-by  pool 
came  the  subdued  call  of  a  toad  at  long  intervals; 
it  was  assuredly  a  lonely  creature  which,  sighing 
again  and  again,  queried:  "Is  there  no  other  toad 
near  me  ? ' '  Everywhere  —  loneliness !  That  was  the 
mood  that  drifted  down  upon  Franka  from  this 
nature  —  perhaps  because  she  invested  nature  with 
this  very  mood.  Yonder,  each  flash  of  lightning 
zigzagged  down  for  itself  alone,  unconcerned  about 
its  forerunners  and  successors;  in  obtuse  egoism 
sparkles  every  star  without  caring  that,  many  mil 
lions  of  miles  away,  other  stars  are  pursuing  their 
own  courses;  the  tree-tops  must  rock  as  the  wind 
bends  them  without  other  trees  coming  to  their 
aid  —  yes,  the  most  perfect  indifference  reigns  where- 
ever  she  might  turn;  were  she  to  die  that  moment, 
the  lightning  would  continue  to  flash  this  way  and 
that;  the  toad  would  not  call  in  the  least  degree 
more  mournfully  and  the  stars  in  all  eternity  would 
not  have  the  slightest  notion  of  it.  Alone  .  .  .  alone 
.  .  .  that  was  the  keynote  of  the  whole  concert  of 
dread  and  melancholy  which  whispered  around  her. 

278 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  stretched  her  arms  out  toward  the  vacant 
night  and  drew  such  a  deep  breath  that  its  expira 
tion  was  a  groan.  Then  she  sat  wearily  down  in  a 
soft,  upholstered  wicker  chair,  leaned  her  head  back, 
and  in  her  lassitude  and  depression  of  spirits  the 
consciousness  that  she  was  resting  did  her  good 
physically.  But  psychically  her  indefinite  longing 
developed  into  a  hot  sense  of  woe.  Her  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  Oh,  how  good  it  would  be  to  have  some 
fond  heart  on  which  she  might  pour  out  her  sor 
rows  .  .  .  yet  if  she  had,  perhaps  she  would  not 
have  the  impulse  to  weep!  For  in  that  case  the 
pain,  the  dull  pain,  called  "loneliness,"  would  be 
cured ! 

She  sat  there  for  some  time,  thinking  of  no  defi 
nite  person  and  conscious  of  no  definite  trouble; 
she  merely  felt  sad,  in  a  certain  sense  platonically 
sad.  Her  thoughts  were  without  clear  outlines:  all 
that  she  had  experienced  —  and  missed  —  that  day 
flowed  into  a  hazy  picture.  Her  eyes  closed  and 
gradually  she  began  to  doze:  her  indefinite  thoughts 
were  confused  into  a  still  more  indefinite  dream. 

Again  it  seemed  to  be  clear  day  around  her.  The 
call  of  the  toad  and  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  had 
ceased.  In  place  of  them  there  seemed  to  be  the 
light,  murmuring  plash  of  the  oar.  She  was  sailing 
in  a  gondola  on  the  lake  and  the  boatmen  were 
Helmer  and  Victor  Adolph  —  both  in  the  charac 
teristic  garb  and  attitude  of  Venetian  gondoliers. 
The  slender  black  boat  was  surrounded  by  cloud- 
borne  aviators.  Ah,  if  she  could  only  wing  her  way 
up  into  the  upper  air  in  such  an  airship.  The  wish 

279 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

was  followed  —  as  so  often  occurs  in  dreams  —  by 
its  instantaneous  fulfillment.  A  hovering  cloud-car 
took  her  up  and  bore  her  away.  She  wanted  to  call 
to  the  gondoliers,  but  they  had  vanished  together 
with  the  gondola.  All  around  her  only  clouds  were 
to  be  seen,  rushing  onward  and  changing  their 
shapes  like  locomotive  smoke  which  one  sees  stream 
ing  by  the  train  windows.  Soon  her  equipage  rose 
above  this  region  of  clouds  and  the  sky  grew  blue 
over  her  head.  In  easy  motion  it  went  up  —  up 
and  down  in  rhythmical  regularity  like  a  swing,  but 
like  a  swing  which  at  every  gyration  lifts  farther 
from  the  earth;  then  another  forward  plunge  in 
speediest  flight  —  like  a  sailboat  driven  before  a 
wild  wind ;  —  nothing  more  was  to  be  seen  of  the 
earth.  On  the  zenith  a  dazzling  orb  —  is  that  the 
sun?  How,  then,  can  her  eyes  endure  its  brightness? 
The  orb  grew  ever  larger;  it  was  coming  nearer  .  .  . 
for  Heaven's  sake,  how  high  was  she  doomed  to 
mount? 

A  sense  of  terror  darted  through  Franka's  limbs. 
.  .  .  "Enough!  Enough!"  she  cried  and  looked 
everywhere  in  her  vehicle.  .  .  .  Where  then  is  the 
helmsman?  No  one!  she  was  all  alone.  "Alone"  — 
that  was  the  anguishing  word  which  just  before  had 
been  oppressing  her  heart;  but  now  for  the  first 
time  she  understood  it  in  its  most  gruesome  sense: 
alone  in  the  universe!  What  in  comparison  was  all 
earthly  solitude?  Ever  higher  she  arose  toward  the 
sun-resembling  orb;  ever  wilder  became  the  storm 
wind  .  .  .  whither,  whither,  into  what  boundless 
ness  filled  with  horrors?  A  paroxysm  of  anguish  and 

280 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

terror  contracted  her  heart.  Then  she  felt  a  strong 
arm  flung  protectingly  around  her;  one  of  the  gon 
doliers  stood  at  her  side.  She  could  not  see  his  face ; 
only  that  strong,  rescuing  arm  with  its  warm  clasp 
filled  her  dreamy  consciousness  with  a  hitherto  un 
known  joy  of  security.  The  little  airship  now  glided 
gently  downwards.  It  was  a  blissful  feeling:  the 
antithesis  of  loneliness,  a  lovely  sense  of  safety; 
a  tide  of  tenderness  billowed,  literally  billowed, 
around  her,  for  it  was  to  her  as  if  great  warm  drops 
fell  on  her  forehead  and  trickled  caressingly  over 
her  body.  If  one  might  imagine  a  paroxysm  of  ap 
peasing  —  this  miracle  she  experienced  in  her  dream. 

But  even  in  a  dream  the  extreme  of  happiness 
lasts  only  a  second.  The  equipage  had  become  en 
tangled  in  a  knot  of  other  airships  which  precipitated 
themselves  on  one  another  —  painfully  their  frag 
ments  fell  into  her  face ;  a  booming  salvo  of  artillery 
tore  the  air,  and  Franka,  awakening,  found  herself 
sitting  on  her  balcony  in  a  heavy  shower  of  hail, 
and  the  storm,  which  had  broken,  was  raging  with 
lightning  and  loud  peals  of  thunder.  She  jumped 
up  to  run  into  her  room  and  at  that  instant  she  felt 
that  the  bar  of  the  blind,  loosened  by  the  wind,  had 
fallen  on  her  chair,  and  slipped  down  to  her  side. 

Just  then  Frau  Rockhaus  appeared  at  the  bal 
cony  door.  "Why!  Are  you  here?  I  should  not  have 
thought  of  looking  for  you  here.  How  do  you  happen 
to  be  out  in  all  this  storm?  It  has  been  raining  for  a 
long  time,  and  now  it  is  hailing  and  thundering.  You 
are  wet  through. " 

"Yes,  dear  Eleonore;  I  merely  fell  sound  asleep." 
281 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing!  Now,  get  to 
bed  as  quickly  as  you  can." 

"Yes,  I  will.  Please  ring  for  the  maid,  and  good 
night." 

As  soon  as  her  light  was  put  out  and  she  had  com 
posed  herself  for  going  to  sleep,  a  vivid  recollection 
of  her  dream  came  to  her.  Again  she  believed  that 
she  felt  the  strong  arm  at  her  side,  —  it  must  have 
been  the  bar,  —  and  she  tried  to  conjure  back  that 
peculiar  consciousness  of  security  which,  after  the 
terror  of  the  blood-curdling  plunge  into  endless 
space,  had  so  deeply  inspired  her.  .  .  .  She  suc 
ceeded  in  doing  so:  she  could  bring  back  almost 
the  whole  dream  with  all  its  details,  and  she  felt 
enriched  by  a  new  experience.  Can  it  be,  then,  that 
such  a  heavenly  refuge,  such  a  paradise  of  security 
can  be  found? 

It  was  long  before  she  went  to  sleep  again;  in 
deed,  she  did  not  care  to  sleep,  for  the  sweet  recol 
lection  of  the  dream,  like  a  slight  intoxication  of 
opium,  was  more  refreshing,  more  tranquilizing  than 
any  sleep.  Only  toward  dawn  did  she  fall  into  a 
deep,  sound  slumber. 

When  she  awoke  the  sun  was  already  high.  She 
felt  strengthened  and  full  of  joyous  life.  The  mel 
ancholy  of  the  evening  before  had  been  dispelled. 
It  even  caused  no  diminution  of  her  good  spirits, 
when,  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon,  her  aunts  came 
to  see  her. 

"Oh,  it  is  lovely  of  you  to  visit  me  ...  please 
sit  down.  Now  tell  me,  how  do  you  enjoy  being  with 
us?  Is  n't  it  all  wonderful?" 

282 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  old  ladies  sat  down.  Then  Franka  for  the 
first  time  noticed  that  their  faces  expressed  a  cer 
tain  solemn  sullenness. 

"We  have  come  to  say  good-bye,  Franka,"  said 
Countess  Adele. 

"We  cannot  endure  it  any  longer,"  added  Frau- 
lein  Albertine  in  explanation. 

"What,  you  are  going  to  leave  Lucerne,  before 
the  Rose- Week  is  ended?" 

The  countess  nodded.  "Yes,  we  are  leaving  to 
day.  I  believe  that,  if  I  were  to  remain  longer,  I 
should  lose  my  mind.  These  flyings  up  in  the  air, 
these  uncanny  pictures  on  the  sky,  all  these  up 
setting  performances  and  declamations  .•  .  .  No, 
it  is  not  normal  at  all,  I  might  almost  say  not 
comme  il  faut.  We  of  our  class  cannot  take  any 
pleasure  in  it.  Yesterday  evening,  at  supper,  I  de 
clared  that  I  was  going  home.  Albertine  was  agree 
able." 

"Perfectly  agreeable,"  corroborated  Albertine. 

"Coriolan  was  delighted;  only  Malhof  —  he  was 
furious  —  he  is  going  to  stay.  We  do  not  need  him. 
Coriolan  is  sufficient  protection  for  our  return 
journey.  He  is  a  genuine  knight  of  the  good  old 
stamp.  .  .  .  Now,  tell  me  about  the  prince  who 
was  paying  you  such  pronounced  attention  the  day 
before  yesterday.  .  .  .  Why  did  he  not  show  him 
self  yesterday?  Is  the  affair  at  an  end?" 

"  'T  is  no  affair  at  all, "  replied  Franka  testily. 

Fraulein  Albertine  nodded  assent:  "You  are 
quite  right,  not  to  get  any  such  idea  into  your  head. 
Men  of  such  elevated  rank  seldom  have  honest  in- 

283 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tentions  —  certainly  not  with  one  of  the  '  emanci 
pated'  women." 

"Well,  I  should  have  liked  Franka  to  make  such 
a  match, "  said  the  great-aunt  soothingly.  "  Morga 
natic  marriages  are  frequently  contracted.  But  you 
will  never  lack  suitors,  for  you  are  pretty ;  and  such 
little  escapades  as  lecturing  will  be  forgiven  you, 
especially  as  in  the  mean  time  you  have  managed  to 
retain  your  respectability.  .  .  .  But  where  is  Rock- 
haus?" 

"Gone  out  for  a  walk." 

"And  you  here  alone?  That  is  not  correct.  You 
must  be  very  circumspect.  What  I  was  going  to 
say  apropos  of  your  getting  married  .  .  .  there  is 
a  cousin  of  mine  —  not  Coriolan  —  no  longer  as 
young  as  he  used  to  be,  a  widower,  but  of  very  high 
nobility ;  that  would  be  worth  while.  Do  you  know, 
with  the  Sielenburg  estates  you  ought  to  marry 
into  the  aristocracy,  so  that  they  would  come  into 
the  right  hands  again.  You  yourself  could  get  an 
assured  position  in  society  and  lead  a  happy  life. 
Certainly,  you  could  never  feel  lastingly  contented 
among  all  these  Americans  and  Russians  and  vaga 
bond  people,  and  wandering  round  yourself  with 
them.  ...  I  should  wish  my  brother's  grandchild 
a  pleasanter  existence :  I  want  to  see  her  respectably 
settled.  .  .  .  Did  n't  some  one  knock?  It  must  be 
Coriolan ;  he  promised  to  come  round  here  and  fetch 
us.  He  has  only  to  get  the  railway  tickets  for  us, 
...  I  was  right  ...  it  is  he.  Come  in,  come  right 
in,  Coriolan;  Franka  will  be  glad  to  see  you." 

Franka  was,  indeed,  glad  —  but  chiefly  because 
284 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

these  three  inestimable  relatives  were  going  to  be 
take  themselves  away,  and  she  firmly  proposed  to 
break  off  once  more  the  interrupted  and  patched-up 
acquaintance.  Behind  Coriolan  followed  a  servant, 
who  brought  the  customary  great  basket  of  violets. 

"From  His  Royal  Highness,  Prince  Victor 
Adolph, "  said  he. 

A  vivid  flush  mounted  to  Franka's  cheeks.  She 
indicated  with  her  hand  that  the  basket  was  to  be 
placed  on  the  table.  The  servant  obeyed  and  left 
the  room. 

"  Aha !  "  exclaimed  the  Countess  Adele  saga 
ciously. 

"Ei,  ei,"  commented  Fraulein  Albertine. 

Coriolan  felt  that  it  was  incumbent  on  him  to  say 
something.  "When  a  pretty  woman  sings  or  dances 
or  speaks  on  the  stage,  then  they  send  her  flowers  — 
that  's  the  way  it  goes." 

"Yes,  it  has  no  other  significance,"  said  Franka. 
"Will  you  not  sit  down?  And  are  you  really  going 
to  take  the  ladies  away?" 

"Indeed,  I  am,  and  with  the  greatest  pleasure. 
I  am  more  homesick  even  than  they  are.  Here  one 
gets  the  blues,  or  is  driven  wild  with  rage." 

"But  there  are  such  interesting  events  still  com 
ing  off, "  remarked  Franka.  "An  American  inventor 
is  going  to  tell  us  of  the  most  unheard-of  things, 
things  that  will  quite  revolutionize  the  future." 

Coriolan  shrugged  his  shoulders:  "There  are  noth 
ing  but  unheard-of  things  here.  It  would  be  much 
better  to  teach  people  to  go  back  to  the  past,  to 
cultivate  their  historical  sense,  than  to  be  always 

285 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

trying  to  stir  up  new  rubbish.  Is  the  man  going  to 
speak  to-day?" 

"No,  Chlodwig  Helmer  is  to  speak  to-day." 

"Well,  that  does  not  tempt  me.  On  the  Sielen- 
burg  he  always  preserved  a  discreet  silence;  only 
once  he  broke  out  and  what  he  said  —  I  don't  re 
member  what  it  was  —  turned  my  stomach.  I  re 
gard  him  as  a  radical. " 

"Eduard  was  very  much  attached  to  him," 
spoke  up  the  Countess  Adele  in  defense  of  the  for 
mer  secretary;  "  he  would  not  have  kept  a  radical 
so  long.  .  .  .  But,  children,  we  must  be  going  now. 
It  is  lunch-time  and  there  is  still  much  to  do  about 
packing." 

She  stood  up.  The  others  followed  her  example, 
and  they  took  their  leave.  It  was  not  a  painful 
parting.  Franka  drew  a  breath  of  relief  when  the 
door  closed  behind  her  relatives.  But  the  door 
opened  again,  and  Fraulein  Albertine  came  back 
with  a  deep  air  of  mystery. 

"Franka,"  she  whispered,  "I  have  restrained 
myself  all  the  time  we  were  here,  because  I  did  not 
want  to  offend  you;  but  I  consider  it  my  duty  to 
warn  you  —  it  is  for  your  best:  do  not  eat  too  much, 
and  take  much  exercise,  you  are  beginning  to  grow 
stout!  There,  now  I  must  hasten  to  overtake  the 
others.  Adieu !  God  bless  you !"  And  she  was  off. 

Franka  had  to  smile:  that  was  so  like  Albertine. 
She  cast  a  glance  at  herself  in  the  pier-glass  and 
turned  away  not  at  all  alarmed:  there  was  no  fault 
to  be  found  with  the  elegance  of  her  figure. 

Now  she  hastened  to  the  table  where  the  basket 
286 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

of  flowers  was  standing  and  detached  the  note  that 
she  saw  gleaming  among  the  violets.  What  might 
the  prince  —  one  of  the  gondoliers  of  her  dream  — 
have  written  to  her?  Perhaps  a  declaration  of  love! 
She  hastily  tore  open  the  envelope  which  bore  a 
small  royal  coronet  in  gold.  It  was  no  declaration 
of  love,  but  only  a  formal  apology  for  having  been 
absent  the  day  before,  which  he  explained  "  was  due 
to  the  passage  in  Berne  of  an  exalted  personage." 
Franka  was  possibly  a  little  disappointed  —  but  in 
reality  it  was  better  so.  The  one,  on  whose  strong 
arm  she  leaned  in  her  dream,  was  perhaps  the  other 
gondolier. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

CHLODWIG  HELMER'S  LECTURE:  THE  CONQUEST 
OF  THE  AIR 

ON  the  fourth  day  of  the  Rose-Week,  the  audi 
torium  was  as  usual  filled  to  the  last  seat.  At  the 
right,  on  the  front  of  the  platform,  a  kind  of  prosce 
nium-box  had  been  set  up,  designed  for  the  special 
guests  who  had  signified  their  intention  of  being 
present,  —  the  King  of  Italy  and  the  President  of 
the  French  Republic.  Besides  these  two  chief  exe 
cutives,  there  were  several  other  members  of  the 
ruling  families  of  Europe  in  the  hall,  but  they  were 
mingled  with  the  other  auditors.  On  the  stage,  the 
speaker's  desk  was  placed  in  the  center,  but  pushed 
somewhat  to  the  rear,  and  in  the  background  sat 
as  usual  Mr.  Toker,  his  daughter,  and  a  number  of 
his  distinguished  guests.  Some  of  them,  however, 
had  preferred  to  listen  to  the  exercises  from  the  body 
of  the  house. 

It  was  still  ten  minutes  before  the  hour  set  for 
the  commencement,  but  the  hall  was  already  packed ; 
only  the  King  and  the  President  had  not  as  yet 
appeared.  Lively  conversation  buzzed  through  the 
place.  Persons  who  naturally  belonged  together  sat 
in  little  groups:  thus,  for  example,  the  two  wid 
ows,  Countess  Solnikova  and  Frau  Annette  Felsen, 
accompanied  by  several  gentlemen,  among  them 

288 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Marchese  Rinotti  and  Baron  de  la  Rochere,  as  if 
they  were  in  their  own  salon;  the  Countess  Schol- 
lendorf,  Albertine,  Coriolan,  and  Malhof  formed  a 
little  Austrian  colony,  to  which  the  well-known 
sportsman  also  joined  himself.  Franka  Garlett  with 
her  companion  sat  in  the  background  of  a  small 
box,  just  out  of  sight  of  the  public. 

Franka's  excitement  was  great.  She  had  never 
heard  Helmer  speak  in  public  —  it  was  practically 
his  first  public  address,  and  she  trembled  a  little 
for  him. 

The  Sielenburgers  had  not  taken  their  departure 
after  all.  It  had  happened  that  the  sleeping-coupe1 
tickets  procured  were  meant  for  the  following  day 
and  consequently  the  involuntarily  prolonged  so 
journ  allowed  them  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
Helmer's  address.  The  Countess  Schollendorf  was 
gazing  about  through  her  opera-glass.  Suddenly 
she  cried  out  with  a  startled  expression:  "For  God's 
sake,  there  in  the  third  sofa  in  front  —  is  n't  that 
the  Archduke  .  .  .  ?" 

"Sh!"  interrupted  the  sportsman.  "Don't  utter 
the  name  aloud;  it  is  certainly  he,  but  he  does  not 
want  to  be  recognized." 

"Still,  perhaps  we  are  mistaken,"  said  the  Count 
ess;  "our  imperial  family  has  not  much  taste  for 
such  American  extravagances." 

"  But  really,  it  is  the  Archduke;  I  cannot  be  mis 
taken,  for  he  bought  a  horse  of  me  once  and  closed 
the  bargain  himself.  Besides,  he  is  said  to  be  a  very 
enlightened  prince." 

Coriolan  flared  up:  "What  do  you  call  'enlight- 
289 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ened'?  That  is  a  suspicious  word.  .  .  .  Thank  God, 
our  court  is  nothing  of  the  sort." 

The  countess  had  now  directed  her  glass  toward 
the  platform.  "Franka  is  not  sitting  up  there  this 
time  .  .  .  but  that  Helmer!  Who  would  have 
thought  that  I  should  have  seen  Eduard's  secretary 
in  this  way  again !  It  is  said  that  he  is  going  to  give 
an  address.  I  am  curious. " 

"I  am  not,"  muttered  the  cousin. 

"You  are  an  unendurable  man,  Coriolan, "  re 
marked  Albertine  suavely. 

"We  need  not  be  vexed,  my  worthy  friends," 
observed  Baron  Malhof  at  this  moment,  taking  a 
part  in  the  conversation,  after  having  vainly  looked 
round  to  find  Franka.  "One  must  never  be  vexed; 
certainly  not  while  on  a  pleasure  journey.  One 
ought  thankfully  to  get  from  it  all  the  possible 
satisfaction  that  may  be  offered.  Domestic  cares, 
local  prejudices,  have  been  left  far  behind.  One 
drinks  in  all  the  delight  of  the  'now,'  of  the  un 
familiar,  of  the  unusual.  And  especially  here  in  this 
festal  hall,  where  such  a  brilliant  company  is  as 
sembled,  where  it  smells  so  fragrant,  —  I  would 
wager  that  the  ventilator  distributes  atomized  rose- 
water,  —  where  sweet  music  is  playing,  where  beau 
tiful  women  are  to  be  seen,  and  where  one  can 
stare  at  two  living  rulers  of  great  States,  and  where 
there  is  to  be  great  oratory  in  various  tongues  of 
Babel  about  the  'lofty  flights  of  human  thought.' 
...  If  this  is  not  a  place  of  amusement,  what  is  it, 
I  'd  like  to  know?  Do  you  see,  in  my  opinion  life  is 
a  storehouse,  filled  full  of  joyance  and  annoyance, 

290 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  all  wisdom  consists  in  getting  out  of  that  store 
house  all  possible  joy  and  avoiding  everything  that 
can  possibly  annoy  ..." 

A  stir  went  through  the  audience.  The  President 
of  the  French  Republic  and  the  King  of  Italy  had 
entered  their  box.  Mr.  Toker  had  ushered  them  in, 
and  he  remained  for  a  few  moments  standing  in  the 
back  of  the  box  in  order,  as  could  be  plainly  seen, 
to  give  his  illustrious  guests  some  information  about 
his  likewise  illustrious  house-guests;  for  his  eyes,  as 
well  as  those  of  the  two  rulers,  moved,  during  the 
conversation,  from  one  to  another  of  the  selected 
circle  filling  the  background  of  the  platform. 

Now  Mr.  Toker  went  back  to  his  place  and  gave 
the  signal  to  begin. 

For  the  introduction,  a  second  performance  was 
given  of  the  Rose-Quintette  which  on  the  first  day 
had  afforded  such  enjoyment;  again  it  exerted  the 
same  charm  and  aroused  the  whole  audience  to  the 
utmost  enthusiasm.  The  King  from  the  land  of  music 
set  the  example,  and  the  applause  throughout  the 
auditorium  rose  into  a  perfect  storm.  Vera's  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears  of  delight.  The  Rose-Quintette 
was  a  genuine  affront  to  that  ultra-modern  school 
of  those  who  pose  as  scorners  of  melody;  they  did 
not,  indeed,  hiss,  but  they  exchanged  significant 
glances  and  bitterly  ironical  smiles. 

After  the  applause  had  subsided,  the  great  Ital 
ian  tragedienne  came  forth  and  recited  Hero's  la 
ment  over  the  body  of  Leander,  a  soul-stirring  mon 
ologue  from  the  first  work  of  a  Roman  poet  as  yet 
comparatively  unknown.  It  was  a  decidedly  long 

291 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

while  after  she  had  finished,  before  the  applause 
began:  people  were  too  deeply  moved  to  express 
their  gratification  instantly.  Genuine  tears  trembled 
on  the  eyelashes  of  the  great  artist,  and  in  the  audi 
ence  many  cheeks  were  wet.  Who  has  never  stood 
by  the  bier  of  one  dearly  beloved,  and  has  not  gazed 
down  into  an  abyss  of  grief  so  profound  that  the 
heart  is  penetrated  by  the  terror  of  eternity? 

Now  followed  one  of  those  ten-minute  pauses 
during  which  the  auditorium  changed  into  a  salon. 
Some  of  the  guests  left  their  places ;  calls  were  paid ; 
there  was  promenading  up  and  down  the  lobbies. 
The  master  of  the  house  stepped  into  the  box  where 
sat  the  two  exalted  rulers  in  order  to  explain  to  them 
the  meaning  of  the  intermission ;  they  in  turn  went 
out  on  the  platform  and  allowed  the  various  celeb 
rities  to  be  presented  to  them.  The  King  greeted 
the  actress  as  an  old  acquaintance,  shook  hands 
with  her,  and  talked  with  her  for  some  time.  Then 
he  greeted  his  other  fellow-countryman,  the  great 
inventor,  with  equal  heartiness.  To  be  proud  of 
one's  king  and  to  feel  for  him  a  genuine  affection, 
is  a  widespread  sentiment  in  monarchical  countries ; 
but  there  is  also  very  frequently  in  royal  personages 
a  feeling  of  pride  and  of  gratitude  for  those  who  as 
artists  or  otherwise  wear  the  crown  of  glory  of  their 
country,  and  this  feeling  might  be  called  kings' 
loyalty.  For  centuries  monarchs  have  showed  this 
loyalty  in  the  form  of  gratitude  to  the  heads  of  the 
great  noble  families,  especially  for  the  leaders  of 
armed  forces  on  land  and  sea;  but  of  late  they  have 
begun  to  realize  that  the  fame  of  a  country  is  borne 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

over  wider  reaches  of  space  and  time  by  the  names 
of  its  intellectual  great  men  than  by  the  names  of  its 
aristocrats  and  soldiers. 

The  ringing  of  a  bell  announced  the  resumption 
of  the  exercises,  and  an  expectant  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  hall.  John  Toker  and  Chlodwig 
Helmer  stepped  out  to  the  speaker's  desk.  The 
American  began  in  English :  — 

"Your  Majesty!  Mr.  President!  Ladies  and 
gentlemen!  I  have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  to 
you  as  the  speaker  of  the  evening  —  I  might  almost 
say  the  speaker  of  the  week  —  Herr  Helmer,  of 
Vienna,  the  author  of  the  poem  '  Schwingen '  which 
quickly  became  famous.  Not  that  I  have  any  de 
sire  to  place  his  deserts  higher  than  those  of  the 
other  illustrious  members  of  the  Rose  Order  —  but 
because  the  theme  which  he  is  about  to  treat  is 
the  fundamental  theme  on  which  our  whole  plan  of 
action  is  arranged:  the  conquest  of  the  upper  re 
gions  —  Herr  Helmer,  you  have  the  floor." 

And  he  stepped  back  to  his  place  in  the  circle. 
As  he  took  his  seat  some  one  whispered  to  him: 
"That  was  not  very  democratic  of  you,  Mr.  Toker, 
when  in  your  introduction  you  apostrophized  the 
two  rulers  with  their  titles!" 

"Please  do  not  confuse  democracy  with  incivility, 
as  is  so  often  done.  It  is  exactly  what  they  are  — 
rulers.  To  every  one  his  due." 

The  fault-finder  remarked  still  further:  "The  two 
rulers  certainly  do  not  understand  German  and  they 
will  be  mightily  bored  with  Herr  Helmer's  address." 

"But  they  do  understand  German,  as  I  happen  to 
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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

know.    Besides,  the  French  translation  of  the  gist 
of  the  address  has  been  printed  and  is  in  their  hands." 

In  the  mean  time  Helmer  had  taken  his  place  at 
one  side  of  the  desk,  letting  his  hand  rest  on  it  and 
surveying  the  audience.  First  of  all,  he  looked  for 
Franka.  At  last  he  caught  sight  of  her  in  the  corner 
of  her  box.  He  gave  her  a  mute  greeting.  At  that 
instant  Prince  Victor  Adolph  and  General  Orell 
entered  her  box.  Franka  shook  hands  with  them, 
but  put  her  finger  to  her  lips,  as  a  sign  that  they 
must  not  speak;  then  she  turned  toward  the  plat 
form.  Her  heart  was  beating  wildly.  She  was  as 
deeply  agitated  as  on  the  evening  of  her  own  debut. 
Victor  Adolph  took  his  seat  behind  her. 

Helmer  made  a  slight  inclination  toward  the  two 
rulers ;  then  turned  to  the  audience :  — 

"Fellow-men!  The  meaning  of  this  address  re 
quires  an  explanation:  I  am  conscious  that  I  am 
speaking  not  merely  to  the  small  assembly  of  promi 
nent  men  and  women  in  this  place,  but  to  the  world 
outside.  I  know  that  what  I  am  about  to  say  — 
whether  well  or  ill  —  will  be  repeated  in  type,  on 
human  lips,  on  phonographs,  in  scientific  reviews, 
in  popular  assemblies,  in  the  homes  of  workingmen, 
in  university  halls,  in  all  the  nooks  and  corners  of  the 
whole  civilized  world;  that  it  is  therefore  rightfully 
addressed  to  my  fellow-men ;  and  what  is  more :  the 
object  itself  touches  every  one  personally,  no  mat 
ter  to  what  rank  or  what  land  he  may  belong. 
Fellow-men,  this  matter  concerns  you  all  alike.  Tua 
res  agitur  —  Humanity !  One  of  the  greatest  hours 
of  your  destiny  has  struck!" 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  The  speaker's 
voice  rang  out  clear  and  full,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
restrained  fire  could  be  felt  under  his  words,  spoken 
so  calmly  and  with  such  assurance.  Verily,  it  was 
the  same  fire  as  had  inspired  her,  when  he  delivered 
into  her  hands  the  shield  and  spear  —  Hojo-to-ho  — 
the  cry  of  the  Valkyrie! 

She  turned  round  to  Victor  Adolph,  who  must 
have  understood  the  mute  question  in  her  eyes  — 
"He  speaks  well,  does  n't  he"?  —  for  he  nodded 
affirmatively. 

In  a  somewhat  altered  tone  Helmer  went  on:  — 

"'Alas!  corporeal  pinions  do  not  so  easily  corre 
spond  to  the  pinions  of  the  Intellect,'  are  the  words 
in  Goethe's  'Faust.'  .  .  .  The  opposite  is  true.  Cor 
poreal  pinions  we  already  have,  but  the  spiritual 
wings  have  not  as  yet  been  found  to  correspond. 
Obedient  to  the  will  of  man,  the  flying  ship  soars 
a  thousand  metres  into  the  air,  but  the  will  itself 
remains  in  the  depths.  High  and  free,  in  beautiful 
premeditated  curves,  the  artfully  constructed  pin 
ions  drive  through  the  pure  ether,  while  far  below, 
enchained,  remains  the  intellect  groveling  in  the 
dust.  By  a  marvel  of  technique,  the  gates  into  a  new 
age  have  been  boldly  forced,  but  nobody  seems  to 
perceive  this.  The  marvel  is  now  only  a  few  years 
old.  During  the  first  week  or  ten  days,  tumultuous 
jubilation,  universal  astonishment: — 'At  last  the 
millennial  dream  comes  true ! '  '  How  vast  is  human 
genius ! '  But  after  a  short  while  everything  goes  on 
as  before.  No  trace  of  the  new  age.  One  further 
means  of  locomotion,  a  new  article  of  commerce,  a 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

fresh  sport  and  opportunity  for  laying  wagers,  one 
more  childish  toy,  one  weapon  more,  that  is  all ! 

"All  respect  for  so-called  human  genius,  but  as 
far  as  concerns  human  imagination  —  it  displays 
a  pitiful  feebleness.  It  ventures  a  few  leaps  into  the 
air  —  a  metre  or  two,  like  the  first  flying-machines 
—  models  as  yet  unprovided  with  motors ;  but  forth 
with  it  sinks  back  again  to  the  ground.  A  door  into 
the  future  forced  open:  whether  from  behind  it,  a 
golden  radiance  is  to  stream,  or  gloomy  clouds  are 
to  threaten,  people  do  not  see  —  they  have  no  desire 
to  see.  They  shrug  their  shoulders,  put  on  an  air 
of  sound  common  sense,  and  deny  all  discussion  of 
future  possibilities  and  revolutions.  The  matter  is 
left  to  specialists,  and  no  one  any  longer  takes  any 
interest  in  it,  save  as  it  may  affect  one's  private 
business  or  one's  private  satisfaction. 

"Above  all,  the  military  authorities  always  take 
possession  of  every  new  invention  and  it  gets  special 
ized  into  merely  technical  limits.  Any  possibility 
of  its  use  other  than  for  future  wars  is  not  taken 
into  consideration,  and  hence,  the  more  universal 
points  of  view,  the  indirect  consequences,  are  put 
aside  and  only  the  nearest-lying  applications  are 
discussed. 

"Shortly  before  the  invention  of  dirigible  airships 
and  flying-machines,  armies  employed  captive  bal 
loons  and  balloons  driven  before  the  wind ;  even  then 
there  were  aeronautic  troops  — of  course  nothing  more 
natural  than  that  these  should  be  entrusted  as  suit 
able  experts  with  the  introduction  and  maneuvering 
of  the  new  air- vehicles.  This  was  regarded  in  military 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

circles  as  nothing  revolutionary;  it  was  simply  a 
small  improvement  which  might  be  made  useful  in 
connection  with  the  existent  system  of  tactics  —  that 
is  to  say,  for  instance,  in  reconnaissances.  As  a 
weapon  also,  the  thing  might  come  into  use,  and 
experiments  were,  indeed,  made  in  this  direction; 
but  that  was  relegated  to  the  dim  future  and  would 
never  attain  any  great  effective  significance,  for  its 
certainty  of  aim  was  of  the  very  slightest,  its  ra 
dius  of  efficacy  very  limited,  and  by  means  of  per 
pendicular  guns  the  attack  might  be  easily  warded 
off :  —  such  was  the  style  of  appeasement  with  which 
the  suggestion  of  adding  fleets  of  airships  to  the  other 
effective  forces  was  set  forth  and  any  wider  outlook 
into  the  possibilities  of  the  new  acquisition  was  not 
admitted  by  government  circles.  Whenever  practi 
cal  necessity  demanded  such  experiments  in  actual 
warfare,  why,  then  they  might  be  made,  but  it  was 
useless  to  indulge  in  fanciful  dreams  of  the  future. 
.  .  .  And  the  specialists  continued  to  occupy  them 
selves  with  present-day  tasks,  without  abandoning 
the  old  ways ;  —  as  to  the  future,  let  it  take  care  of 
itself. 

"At  bottom,  indeed,  it  is  not  the  business  of  vari 
ous  callings,  making  use  of  any  new  discovery,  to 
investigate  it  in  all  its  aspects ;  nay,  this  would  even 
be  too  much  to  expect  from  the  inventors  themselves. 
Does  the  aviator  understand  very  much  about  the 
scope  of  his  invention?  Occasionally  and  exception 
ally  he  does,  of  course  —  but  not  because  he  is  an 
aviator.  As  such  he  is  a  technician  or  an  acrobat. 
Or,  if  he  wants  to  make  a  show  of  ideal  objects,  he 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

may  be  a  patriot,  and  offers  his  apparatus  to  the 
ministry  of  war.  He  has  no  inkling  of  the  fact  that 
he  has  opened  the  way  into  a  new  epoch  in  which 
new  conditions  of  life  are  to  produce  a  new  humanity. 

"What  these  new  conditions  of  life  may  be,  many, 
indeed,  of  our  clear-sighted  contemporaries  have 
already  recognized,  but  it  has  not  as  yet  penetrated 
into  the  common  consciousness.  On  this  subject 
I  should  like  to  say  something  to  my  fellow-men 
from  the  far-echoing  tribune  on  which  I  stand,  and 
especially  to  tell  them  about  the  mighty  alternative 
that  has  so  suddenly  been  brought  before  our  race." 

Chlodwig  paused.  He  seemed  to  be  collecting  his 
thoughts  for  a  moment  or  two.  This  interval  the 
public  utilized  for  observations  and  the  exchange 
of  views. 

Coriolan  muttered:  "Some  such  rubbish  as  that 
about  flying  I  remember  he  put  forth  when  he  was 
at  the  Sielenburg." 

Countess  Adele  came  to  the  speaker's  defense: 
"He  talks  right  fluently." 

"  I  am  curious,  indeed,"  said  Prince  Victor  Adolph 
to  Franka.  "Have  you  any  idea  what  he  is  aiming 
at?" 

"Certainly,  I  know  Herr  Helmer'slineof  thought. 
He  has  been  my  instructor." 

"Your  instructor?  .  .  .  You  have  a  high  opinion 
of  him?" 

"Indeed  I  have." 

The  group  to  which  the  two  Russian  widows 
belonged  had  not  been  listening  very  attentively. 
Annette  Felsen  and  Minister  Rinotti  were  sitting 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

close  together  and  a  scarf  falling  from  Annette's 
shoulder  had  arranged  itself  so  conveniently  that 
under  its  protection  their  hands  could  touch.  Per 
haps  this  electric  contact  was  too  powerful  to  allow 
any  other  to  connect  the  speaker  and  these  two. 
M.  de  la  Rochere  understood  not  a  word  of  German, 
and  so  any  criticism  that  he  might  be  moved  to  utter 
concerned  only  externalities ;  but  it  was  a  favorable 
criticism :  — 

"The  man  has  a  fine  voice  and  such  intelligent 
hands!  Have  you  noticed  how  he  pressed  the  ends 
of  his  fingers  on  the  top  of  the  table,  —  as  firmly 
and  vibratingly  as  if  he  were  table-tipping,  —  while 
with  his  other  hand  he  made  such  eloquent  and  grace 
fully  sweeping  gestures  that  one  might  actually  fol 
low  the  drift  of  his  discourse:  —  he  was  evidently 
speaking  of  the  air  in  which  he  drew  curves  as  ele 
gant  as  those  of  Latham  or  Bleriot." 

Helmer  now  proceeded  with  his  address :  — 
"The  making  of  fire  by  artificial  means  and  the 
invention  of  speech  were  the  first  stages  in  our  pro 
gress  from  animal  to  man.  Articulate  man  belongs, 
at  all  events,  to  another  species  than  did  his  dumb 
ancestor.  What  kind  of  a  species  flying  man  is  to 
represent,  only  the  scientists  of  the  coming  centu 
ries  will  be  able  to  decide.  To-day  I  would  merely 
call  your  attention  to  the  conditions  of  social  life, 
in  which  we  can,  even  now,  predict  a  change.  There 
is,  for  example,  the  whole  protective  system  of  so 
ciety,  which  might  be  designated  as  the  'lateral 
system/  —  for  walls,  hedges,  gratings,  shut  us  off 
on  the  sides,  —  but  this  now  has  lost  its  advantage. 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Only  the  places  that  are  covered  with  a  roof  are 
entirely  protected,  yet  we  cannot  build  roofs  over  all 
gardens  and  all  stretches  of  land.  There  are  no  more 
islands  either,  if  by  that  term  we  designate  a  terri 
tory  isolated  by  its  coast-defenses  and  by  its  fleet. 
Since  the  day  when  Bleriot  sailed  over  the  British 
Channel,  Great  Britain  ceased  to  be  an  island.  Like 
the  concept  'island,'  by  means  of  aviation  will  also 
disappear  the  custom-house  of  the  frontier  .  .  .  aye, 
the  frontiers  themselves. 

"  Let  us  pause  for  a  moment  and  consider  that 
totality  of  things  which  bears  the  name  of  war: 
What  modification  will  be  likely  to  ensue  in  this 
domain  by  these  new  acquisitions?  The  militarists 
are  quickly  ready  with  their  answer:  'War  will 
simply  be  carried  on  simultaneously  in  the  air.' 
But  the  business  is  not  so  simple  as  on  the  earth 
and  on  the  water.  All  the  methods  of  war,  we  might 
say,  all  the  rules  of  the  game,  are  based  on  the 
following  hypothesis:  the  two  opponents  go  forth 
against  each  other  to  the  borders,  try  to  cross  them, 
try  especially  to  prevent  the  enemy  from  crossing 
them;  try  to  win  and  to  command  positions;  to 
march,  if  possible,  against  the  capital,  and  if  they 
succeed,  then  they  dictate  terms  of  peace.  In  order 
to  make  this  game  more  difficult,  obstacles  are  erected 
in  time  of  peace,  forts  are  built  along  the  borders 
and  the  soil  is  undermined;  the  farther  one  pene 
trates  into  the  country,  more  and  more  fortifications 
are  found,  which  must  be  captured  one  after  the 
other  by  the  invading  army;  and,  moreover,  every 
village,  every  farmstead  where  the  belligerents  might 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

meet,  is  made  into  a  stronghold.  The  game  can  be 
supported  by  sea,  when  the  fleets  approach  the  coast, 
which  must  be  made  more  difficult  to  reach  by  means 
of  fortifications  and  submarine  mines. 

"And  now  comes  the  third  military  arm  —  that 
of  aviation.  For  this,  the  crossing  of  boundaries  is 
child's  play.  Fortifications  would  no  longer  be  im 
pediments;  not  merely  that  they  could  be  blown 
up  by  a  couple  of  pyroxin  bombs ;  —  they  would  be 
simply  a  negligible  quantity.  These  artificial  con 
structions,  with  their  trenches  and  walls  and  case 
ments,  have  also  ceased  to  be  defenses,  just  as  the 
islands  have  ceased  to  be  islands.  Headquarters, 
hitherto  the  safest  places,  most  protected  by  dis 
tance,  places  where  the  maps  of  the  country  used  to 
be  studied,  and  serving  as  the  center  from  which 
the  troops  were  directed,  are  now  the  most  exposed ; 
for  an  enemy's  flyer  would  make  it  his  chief  object 
to  fling  his  explosives  down  on  that  particular  spot. 
All  the  most  modern  methods  of  fighting,  the  con 
cealment  behind  high-piled  earthworks,  are  hence 
forth  without  object;  the  approach  of  great  army 
corps  offers  these  air-skirmishers  the  most  favorable 
circle  of  trajectory  to  be  imagined  —  but  who  will 
there  be  to  endure  this  consciousness  in  addition  to 
all  the  other  hardships  of  the  march?  Still  more 
vulnerable  to  attack  from  above  would  be  every 
munition-train. 

"The  cavalry,  which  in  modern  warfare  is  em 
ployed  only  for  recognizances,  has  become  a  mere 
article  of  luxury  through  the  dirigible  balloon,  the 
usefulness  of  which  in  the  task  of  spying  out  the 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

country  has  been  from  the  very  beginning  appreciated 
as  its  most  brilliant  service ;  but  the  cavalry,  when  the 
regiments  ride  in  close  order,  would  offer  a  fine  mark 
for  the  troops  of  the  air.  But  while  all  the  attempts 
would  be  made  on  the  ground  with  the  object  of  pen 
etrating  the  hostile  country,  the  aerial  troops  of  both 
armies  would  already  have  flown  over  both  capital 
cities  and  would  be  turning  them  into  smoking  heaps 
of  ruins.  Likewise,  a  dirigible  could  in  the  dead  of 
night  glide  over  the  fleet  of  twenty-five-thousand- 
ton  ships  arrayed  in  battle  order,  and  annihilate  it. 
High  in  boundless,  unobstructed  space  there  is  no 
definite  theater  of  war,  no  commanding  position; 
consequently  the  decision  of  the  campaign  cannot  be 
transferred  into  the  air.  Aerial  machines  of  murder 
will  not  march  up  side  by  side  in  line,  but  each  single 
one  will  work  from  up  above  downward ;  up  above, 
there  is  nothing  to  conquer  and  nothing  to  annihilate. 

"If  now,  under  these  newly  created  conditions, 
nations  go  forth  to  fight  each  other  as  before,  it  will 
be  just  as  if  two  chessplayers  should  sit  down  at  the 
board  and  should  say:  'We  will  allow  the  old  rules 
to  prevail;  the  pawn  shall  be  just  as  valueless;  the 
Knight  shall  make  his  jumps ;  Rook  and  Queen  shall 
preserve  their  great  power;  the  King  shall  have  the 
privilege  of  "castling";  but  we  will  add  a  new  rule: 
either  of  us  may  throw  something  on  the  board 
from  above  and  upset  all  the  chessmen!'  A  beau 
tiful  game  —  that  would  be  —  which  would  fail  to 
please  the  chessplayers!" 

He  then  added,  as  if  in  a  parenthesis:  "The  chess 
men  fail  to  be  pleased  anyhow." 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Some  sounds  of  dissatisfaction  were  heard  in  the 
auditorium.  The  military  men  present  were  express 
ing  their  disagreement.  "If  only  civilians  would 
not  talk  about  things  of  which  they  have  n't  the 
faintest  notion,"  remarked  a  retired  colonel  to  his 
neighbor. 

General  Orell  had  demurred  the  most  indignantly: 
"All  nonsense!" 

"I  don't  find  it  so,"  replied  Victor  Adolph. 

But  no  great  time  was  allowed  for  exchanging 
opinions,  for  Helmer  now  proceeded :  — 

"The  opponents  of  war  —  and  such  I  find  to-day 
even  in  the  most  influential  social  positions  "  —  he 
bowed  toward  the  royal  box —  "the  opponents  of 
war  might  congratulate  themselves  that  such  a  war- 
destroying  element  has  entered  into  the  very  appa 
ratus  of  war;  but  the  chances  are  that  the  experi 
ment  would  bring  about  a  catastrophe  involving  not 
the  destruction  of  war,  but  rather  the  destruction  of 
civilization. 

"  In  a  book,  which  is  the  work  of  a  prophet  and  of 
a  forewarner,  H.  G.  Wells,  whose  powerful  imagina 
tion  never  leaves  the  solid  ground  of  logic,  there  is 
a  description  of  what  must  become  of  the  present 
world  if  once  the  rain  of  fire  should  pour  down  upon 
it  from  out  the  clouds.  Aye, '  the  conquest  of  the  air ' 
—  we  have  little  cause  for  rejoicing  over  it  —  con 
ceals  the  most  awful  perils. 

"And  one  thing  more:  What  will  henceforth  be 
the  sense  of  the  term  'sentinel'?  Hitherto,  those 
that  were  threatened  could  feel  a  certain  degree  of 
security,  by  surrounding  themselves  with  a  body- 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

guard;  by  keeping  all  the  doors  and  entrances  to 
their  palaces  and  gardens  closely  watched,  night 
and  day;  by  stationing  armed  hedges  on  the  right 
and  left,  when  they  went  out  into  the  streets;  or, 
if  they  traveled,  by  protecting  the  railway  track 
through  its  whole  length  by  lanes  of  soldiers  and 
police ;  but  what  will  all  this  avail  against  assassina 
tion  from  above? 

"And  altogether:  the  execution  of  every  act  of 
hatred  or  revenge  will  be  greatly  facilitated  and  its 
discovery  made  more  difficult;  no  police  stations 
can  be  erected  in  the  upper  air,  no  police  dogs  could 
follow  the  trail;  what  yesterday  was  called  'flight' 

—  then  a  very  difficult  and  dangerous  undertaking 

—  can  to-day  be  taken  as  a  pleasure  trip ! 

"How  could  one  find  any  traces  in  the  heights 
above?  The  aeronautic  Sherlock  Holmes  will  offer 
a  new  and  as  yet  unexploited  subject  for  detective 
stories.  A  winged  gendarmerie  will  first  have  to  be 
organized ;  but  a  great  obstacle  stands  in  the  way  of 
patrolling  space:  not  only  is  there  the  stretch  from 
north  to  south  and  from  east  to  west,  but  also 
zenithward.  The  desired  point  will  no  longer  be 
crossed  only  by  two  lines,  but  by  three.  All  this 
must  be  faced.  If  really  man  is  a  wolf  to  his  fellow- 
man  and  is  bound  to  remain  so,  then  our  enemy,  the 
wolf,  by  means  of  our  new  achievements  has  got  a 
new  and  tremendous  accretion  of  strength." 

Helmer  made  a  brief  pause.  A  slight  feeling  of 
uneasiness  had  taken  possession  of  his  audience.  .  .  . 
What  the  man  was  predicting  did  not  seem  so  rosy ! 
But  Helmer  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead,  as 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

if  he  would  drive  away  a  swarm  of  annoying  visions, 
and  then  he  went  on  in  a  louder  voice :  — 

"I  do  not  stand  here  as  a  prophet  of  misfortune. 
I  see  the  evil,  but  I  also  see  the  cure  for  it.  If  new 
conditions  of  life  are  brought  forward,  if  the  world 
around  us  undergoes  changes,  then  our  mode  of  life 
must  be  made  to  conform  to  them ;  for  what  does  not 
conform  goes  to  destruction.  Nature  herself  accom 
plishes  this  process  of  adaptation  by  dooming  to  de 
struction  those  who  are  incapable  of  conforming.  At 
the  present  stage  of  human  development,  however, 
we  do  not  need  to  leave  this  process  to  Nature 
alone:  we  have  reason,  we  have  knowledge,  and  we 
have  experience:  we  ourselves  can  take  the  work  of 
transformation  into  our  own  hands!  Nature  works 
slowly  and  works  relentlessly;  we  can  hasten  her 
work,  and  we  can  avoid  those  harsh  and  pitiless 
means  which  Nature  employs  to  bend  us  under  the 
law  of  adaptation.  So  now,  wre  are  capable  of  recog 
nizing  the  new  conditions,  the  new  needs,  that  grow 
out  of  the  human  conquest  of  the  air.  We  can  esti 
mate  what  of  the  old  contrivances,  of  the  old  forms 
of  thinking,  cannot  be  brought  over  to  the  new 
dawning  epoch ;  we  can  mentally  construct  the  con 
ditions  and  principles  which  might  prevail  in  the 
altered  circumstances;  we  can  strive  and  we  can 
bring  it  about,  that  the  necessary  conformation 
shall  take  place  without  its  involving  the  method  of 
Nature  —  'The  destruction  of  whatever  resists.' 

"And  the  formula  of  the  needed  action  is  provided 
for  us  by  the  new  acquisition  itself:  We  are  already 
able  physically  to  soar  up  into  the  heights  —  we  must 

305 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

do  the  same  thing  morally.  We  must  learn  to  hold 
dominion  over  the  realm  of  High  Thinking. 

"For  thousands  of  years  mankind  has  been  dream 
ing  of  the  possibility  of  learning  to  fly.  It  has  so 
often  tried  in  vain  that  at  last  it  came  to  the  con 
clusion  that  it  was  impossible.  And  yet  it  has  been 
proved  to  be  possible. 

"  In  the  same  way,  and  almost  even  more  timidly, 
mankind  has  behaved  toward  those  dreams  which 
attributed  to  human  souls  the  capacity  of  applying  to 
the  intercourse  of  nations  the  moral  injunctions  that 
have  been  laid  down  as  law  for  the  behavior  of  indi 
viduals,  and  of  renouncing  violence  in  all  its  forms. 
This  has  been  called  Utopia.  .  .  .  '  Man  is  essentially 
a  wild  beast '  —  they  say :  '  only  by  force  can  he  be 
tamed,  only  by  force  can  he  be  held  under  restraint, 
and  force  has  always  conducted  the  fate  of  nations.' 
Well,  now,  the  most  Utopian  of  all  Utopian  possi 
bilities  —  flying  —  has  become  a  reality.  Technical 
art  has  won  this  victory.  And  must  the  spirit  alone 
remain  forever  enchained  in  the  wallowing  depths 
of  hatred  and  brutality?  Certainly  not! 

"Just  as  soon  as  human  genius  shall  put  forth 
the  same  determination,  the  same  assurance,  as  it 
has  put  forth  in  technical  work,  for  the  attainment 
of  moral  ideals,  it  will  be  likewise  victorious.  All  the 
technical  inventions  have  had  the  one  end  and  aim 
of  making  life  more  beautiful,  more  enjoyable,  easier, 
—  in  a  word,  of  distributing  happiness.  But  what 
genuine  happiness  is  possible  if  all  intellectual  ac 
tivities  are  ever  maintained  for  the  purpose  of  ren 
dering  life  more  unendurable  and  of  destroying  it? 

306 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

With  his  physical  capacities,  man  must  grow  psy 
chically,  else  will  he  become  more  and  more  dan 
gerous  and  wretched  instead  of  growing  greater  and 
happier.  Now  that  he  has  subdued  steam  and  elec 
tricity  and  radium  and  the  Hertzian  waves,  in  order 
to  make  existence  more  comfortable  for  him,  the 
time  has  come  that  he  should,  with  equal  confidence 
and  equally  firm  resolution,  try  to  make  serviceable 
those  other  forces  which  also  are  inherent  in  the 
world,  —  good  will,  love,  reason,  —  and  which  alone 
are  fit  to  endow  life  with  beauty  and  value." 

A  murmur  of  approbation  stirred  through  the 
hall.  Helmer  advanced  a  step  toward  the  front  of 
the  platform  and  stretched  out  both  his  hands :  — 

"Aye,  Good  Will!  I  have  uttered  there  the  holiest 
concept  in  the  universe.  For  the  upward  flights  of 
the  soul,  this  is  the  only  motor-power —  'Good  Will ' ! 
If  aeronautics  and  aviation  had  not  discovered  the 
lightest  possible  motor,  they  would  still  have  been 
Utopias.  And  all  endeavors  to  solve  social  problems, 
to  bring  security  and  comfort  to  human  society,  all 
attempts  to  rouse  men's  souls  into  higher  spheres, 
have  necessarily  failed,  for  the  precise  reason  that 
Good  Will,  Goodness  —  called  weakness  by  the  nar 
row-minded  —  has  not  been  made  the  moving  power 
for  the  conduct  of  social  and  political  life.  Of  course, 
there  are  still  other  splendid  qualities,  and  these  are 
universally  upheld  as  the  basis  of  character  and  as 
the  motives  of  noble  behavior:  courage,  determina 
tion,  intellect,  enthusiasm,  strength.  But  there  is 
only  one  criterion  for  their  inward  value  and  outward 
valuation  —  they  are  worthy  and  blessed  only  when 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

they  are  used  in  the  service  of  Good  Will.  The  quali 
ties  I  have  named  strengthen  our  activity  —  they 
do  not  ennoble  it.  There  is  courage  shown  in  wicked 
ness,  determination  in  cruelty,  intellect  in  malignity, 
enthusiasm  in  hatred,  and  strength  in  arbitrariness. 
And  in  fact,  these  elicit  our  admiration,  because  in 
the  brilliancy  of  the  qualification  the  abomination 
of  the  subject  is  forgotten. 

"I  repeat,  I  am  not  standing  here  as  a  prophet 
of  misfortune;  but  neither  do  I  stand  here  as  a 
preacher  of  virtue.  The  need  is  not  to  educate  to 
goodness,  to  create  and  awaken  feelings  of  benevo 
lence  ;  only  the  goodness  which  is  alive  among  us  men 
needs  to  be  put  into  action.  There  is  a  field,  a  vast 
field  embracing  almost  all  social  relations,  and  at 
its  very  entrance  stands  this  placard  of  warning: 
'Goodness  and  Benevolence  are  forbidden  entrance 
to  this  field'  —  the  name  of  which  is:  ' Politics.' 

"This  placard,  put  up  by  folly  and  stupidity, 
must  be  torn  down.  There  must  be  room  even  on 
this,  especially  on  this,  field  for  humanity's  Highest 
Thinking. 

"Some  two  thousand  years  ago  a  great,  good, 
wise  spirit  put  into  words  a  similar  High  Thought : 
'Love  one  another.'  But  in  vain.  And  some  thou 
sands  of  years  ago  an  Icarus  had  attempted  to  fly 
up  to  the  sun  —  but  in  vain.  And  yet  to-day  we 
can  fly.  And  likewise  that  other  lofty  realm  is  to  be 
won  —  in  which  not  our  bodies  but  our  souls  are  to 
soar! 

"Woe  to  us  if  we  delay  much  longer  to  make 
ready  for  this  new  conquest.  Persecution,  slavery, 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  destruction  must  no  longer  be  regarded  as  legiti 
mate  means  for  the  attainment  of  social  and  politi 
cal  ends.  For  the  possibilities  of  annihilation  have 
grown  to  be  too  powerful.  There  is  no  other  way  of 
self-protection  against  the  flying  man  than  by  mak 
ing  him  a  brother.  We  are  now  at  the  parting  of  the 
ways ;  we  must  go  up  higher  —  up  to  the  highest 
heights  with  intellect  and  heart  —  sursum  corda  — 
or  we  shall  sink  into  nameless  abysses.  We  must 
make  clear  to  ourselves  whither  lead  the  two  paths 
that  lie  open  before  us  —  for  the  choice  is  ours." 

Here  again  Helmer  made  a  brief  pause;  then  he 
stepped  to  the  very  edge  of  the  platform :  — 

"Now  one  further  word  about  thoughts  that 
soar.  .  .  .  The  evil  does  not  consist  in  the  fact  that 
men  are  incapable  of  cherishing  High  Thoughts,  but 
in  this:  —  that  they  have  a  low  opinion  of  man. 
Their  so-called  Worldly  Wisdom  culminates  in  their 
declaring  with  a  scornful  face  that  it  is  impossible 
to  set  up  noble  and  elevated  ideals  as  acting  rules 
for  life.  He  who  scents  out  low  and  selfish  motives 
back  of  every  really  noble  word  and  deed  believes 
that  he  is  wise  and  keen,  that  his  mind  is  peculiarly 
shrewd.  Such  men  are  always  trying  to  see  through 
things  —  they  have  not  learned  to  look  up.  Con 
fidence  in  the  good  awakens  the  good.  The  masses 
will  follow  up  to  that  height  to  which  a  real  leader 
will  venture  to  lead  them ;  they  will  never  go  farther 
than  the  leader  thinks  them  capable  of  going.  We 
have  arrived  at  an  epoch  when,  in  spite  of  the  law  of 
gravity,  the  body  can  soar  to  unknown  heights.  It 
is  beyond  the  power  of  the  imagination  to  foresee 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  what  spiritual  heights  we  and  our  children  may 
attain,  when  once,  with  resolution  and  earnestness, 
with  confidence  and  enthusiasm,  we  endeavor  to 
bring  about  the  conquest  of  High  Thinking.  The 
great  philosopher  who  was  filled  with  equal  awe  be 
fore  the  splendor  of  the  starry  heavens  and  before 
the  Categorical  Imperative  of  his  own  conscience, 
Immanuel  Kant,  anticipated  the  motto  of  this  Rose- 
Week  when  he  said  —  and  with  this  quotation  I 
bring  my  address  to  a  close:  —  'Men  cannot  think 
highly  enough  of  man.'" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A    COZY   SUPPER 

FRANKA  drew  a  deep  breath.  She  had  listened  with 
the  deepest  interest  to  every  word  spoken  by  Hel- 
mer,  and  now,  when  he  had  concluded,  she  turned 
around  for  the  first  time  and  became  again  aware 
of  the  prince's  presence. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say,  Your  Highness?" 

Victor  Adolph  had  risen  to  his  feet.  His  features 
expressed  inward  emotion.  "The  man  stirred  me. 
—  Did  you  listen,  Orell?" 

The  general  respectfully  answered:  "At  your  serv 
ice,  Your  Royal  Highness." 

"Truly,  did  you  follow  it  all?" 

The  question  was  put  in  a  very  skeptical  tone. 

"Not  all.  Much  was  too  nebulous.  Man'savision- 
ary  —  a  dreamer  ...  no  ground  under  his  feet." 

"Well,  yes,"  remarked  Victor  Adolph,  smiling; 
"in  this  epoch  of  aviation,  this  thing  'the  ground 
under  the  feet,'  seems  to  lose  its  importance." 

Several  of  Toker's  guests  at  this  juncture  entered 
Franka's  box.  .  .  .  The  prince  took  his  departure:  — 
"  I  want  to  look  up  the  speaker.  I  must  shake  hands 
with  him." 

Helmer  had  in  the  mean  time  been  conducted  by 
Toker  into  the  royal  loge.  Not  without  emotion  did 
he  make  his  bow  before  the  two  powerful  rulers.  If 
by  any  chance  his  message  had  worked  upon  their 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

wills,  this  might  turn  into  action  pregnant  with 
results.  Power  is  no  illusion.  A  democratic  spirit 
may  regret  that  any  one  person  should  exercise  it 
and  may  desire  to  change  the  fact,  but  no  democrat 
need  be  blind  to  the  importance  of  this  fact  as  long 
as  it  exists.  Abundant  opportunities  for  doing  things 
are  placed  in  the  hands  of  rulers,  even  when  they 
are  no  longer  autocrats,  so  that  they  might  easily 
shorten  the  distance  that  separates  idea  and  accom 
plishment. 

Naturally,  Helmer  had  no  expectation  that  the 
King  and  the  President  would  say  to  him:  "Dear 
Sir,  what  you  have  said  to-day  will  give  the  direc 
tion  to  our  future  activities."  —  But  at  all  events, 
they  had  listened  to  him  and  listened  with  sufficient 
interest  to  express  the  desire  now  to  talk  with  him. 
Who  could  tell  if  this  might  not  expedite  the  fulfill 
ment  of  what  he  had  wanted  to  suggest  to  his  audi 
tors? 

The  trivial  ceremony  of  the  presentation,  of  the 
friendly  hand-shaking,  the  rather  unmeaning  ques 
tions  and  answers,  went  off  in  the  conventional 
manner;  yet  Helmer  did  not  prize  the  opportunity 
any  the  less:  the  seed  of  his  work  might  have  fallen 
on  fruitful  soil.  After  three  minutes  the  whole  af 
fair  was  at  an  end  and  Helmer  was  stepping  down 
into  the  hall.  He  intended  to  seek  out  Franka  whose 
presence  attracted  him,  but  he  was  instantly  sur 
rounded  by  a  crowd  of  people  congratulating  him 
on  his  discourse  or  asking  him  what  he  meant  by 
this  or  that  passage  in  it. 

A  gentleman  approached  him  and  introduced 
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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

himself:  —  "My  name  is  Henri  Juillot,"  said  he  in 
French;  "I  am  an  engineer  and  I  built  a  dirigible 
airship  myself." 

'"La  Patrie'?"  asked  Helmer,  interested.  He 
had  heard  of  the  triumphant  flight  of  this  military 
airship  and  also  of  the  accident  which  had  happened 
to  it  later. 

"  You  know  about  it?"  exclaimed  the  Frenchman. 
"Then  you  also  know  the  unfortunate  'Patrie'  was 
driven  out  of  its  course  by  a  storm  and  was  never 
seen  again." 

"Yes,  I  know;  Count  Zeppelin  did  not  have  much 
better  luck  at  Echterdingen.  But  I  hardly  think, 
M.  Juillot,  that  you  will  be  very  well  satisfied  with  my 
conclusions.  You  designated  your  dirigible  for  war, 
and  I  protested  most  urgently  against  the  exploita 
tion  of  the  splendid  invention  for  such  a  purpose." 

"I  believe  that  our  views  are  not  so  very  diver 
gent,"  replied  the  Frenchman.  "My  opinion  is:  the 
airship  is  going  to  give  the  death-blow  to  war." 

"And  you  say  this?  You,  who  worked  in  the  serv 
ice  of  the  ministry  of  war?" 

"Why  not?  Activity  in  a  given  calling  does  not 
necessarily  shut  out  the  view  of  the  intellectual 
horizon,  does  it?" 

"It  ought  not  to  do  so  —  yet  it  generally  does." 

The  engineer  stood  up.  "I  will  not  detain  you 
longer  now,  and  indeed  here  comes  some  one  looking 
for  you." 

Helmer  seized  his  hand,  and  shook  it  heartily. 
"  I  thank  you  for  your  words,  M.  Juillot.  I  hope  we 
shall  meet  again." 

313 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Ah,  at  last  you  are  discovered.  I  was  looking 
for  you  as  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack ! "  It  was  Prince 
Victor  Adolph  who  came  up  to  him. 

Helmer  bowed. 

"  I  felt  I  must  speak  to  you,"  continued  the  prince. 
"I  wanted  to  tell  you  how  deeply  your  address 
stirred  me.  A  light  seemed  to  rise  before  me,  and  I 
cannot  tell  you  in  merely  a  couple  of  words  what 
I  see  in  this  light." 

Helmer  expressed  his  thanks  for  these  friendly 
words  of  recognition.  He,  indeed,  cherished  a  high 
opinion  'of  the  prince,  and  therefore  his  praise  gave 
him  a  real  pleasure.  And  yet  he  was  overmastered 
by  a  gnawing  bitterness  as  he  stood  facing  the  hand 
some,  manly,  young  prince.  No  self-deception  availed 
any  more;  he  was  obliged  to  confess:  the  horrible 
tormenting  passion  so  allied  to  envy  —  jealousy  — 
began  to  poison  his  mind.  How  he  had  thought  him 
self  superior  to  such  a  feeling  ...  he  had  even  en 
couraged  Franka  to  bestow  her  love  on  this  splendid 
young  man,  and  had  taken  pleasure  in  his  own  magna 
nimity  .  .  .  and  now  this  evil  passion  had  him  in  its 
clutches!  There  was  only  one  cure  for  it:  absence! 
The  week  at  Lucerne  was  nearing  its  end  and  then 
their  ways  would  diverge  —  his  and  Franka 's.  Be 
sides,  he  had  his  great  solace :  art,  labor.  For  some 
time  the  idea  of  a  new  drama  had  been  gradually 
dawning  in  his  mind,  So,  as  soon  as  he  should  be 
back,  he  would  immediately  gird  himself  to  the  task 
of  writing  it.  As  if  in  line  with  this  idea,  the  prince 
now  asked :  — 

"  Have  you  conceived  the  idea  of  writing  any 
314 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

new  poem.  It  will  be  difficult  for  you  to  surpass 
'  Schwingen' ! " 

"  I  am  going  to  write  a  drama,  Your  Royal  High 
ness.  I  have  the  notion  that  one  can  speak  in  that 
way  more  directly,  more  persuasively  to  one's  con 
temporaries  than  in  an  epic." 

"Scarcely  more  persuasively  than  you  spoke 
to-day.  I  thank  you  once  more  for  the  vistas  which 
you  opened  up  before  me.  Auf  wiedersehen,  Herr 
Helmer!"  He  shook  Helmer's  hand  and  left  him. 

A  minute  later  Helmer  found  Franka.  She  hastened 
up  to  him. 

"Ah,  Brother  Chlodwig,  at  last,"  she  cried. 

"7  say  'at  last.'  I  had  such  a  longing  to  see  you. 
You  must  tell  me  ..." 

"Oh,  I  have  ever  so  much  to  say  to  you,"  she  in 
terrupted.  "  It  almost  seems  like  that  evening  when 
I  talked  with  you  the  first  time  —  do  you  remem 
ber?  Or  that  other  evening  when  you  outlined  the 
plan  for  my  career.  Let  us  do  as  we  did  then.  .  .  . 
We  will  have  supper,  we  three  .  .  .  and  talk,  talk. 
...  If  we  have  supper  now  with  the  whole  Rose 
Order,  we  cannot  say  half  what  we  have  to  say. 
Do  you  consent?" 

"Do  I!   That  will  be  splendid!" 

"Very  good,  then.  So  Eleonore  and  I  will  go  up 
to  our  apartment  and  get  the  festive  supper  ready. 
Follow  us  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

When  Helmer  rejoined  the  ladies,  the  table  was 
already  set.  Plates  with  all  kinds  of  cold  meat, 
patties,  lobsters,  chicken,  strawberries  and  sweets, 
were  arrayed  on  it,  and  at  one  side  in  a  silver  bucket 

315 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

a  bottle  of  champagne.  Moreover,  on  a  small  table, 
drawn  close,  and  presided  over  by  Frau  Eleonore,  a 
singing  tea-kettle. 

Franka,  who  had  changed  her  evening  gown  for 
a  soft  white  kimono,  came  forward  to  meet  her 
guest  with  outstretched  hand:  "Welcome,  Brother 
Chlodwig !  Now  we  will  enjoy  a  pleasant  cozy  hour. 
After  all  the  great  and  overpowering  things  that 
surround  one  here,  one  really  yearns  for  something 
domestic,  calm,  and  comfortable." 

Chlodwig  kissed  her  hand:  "You  make  me  happy, 
Franka.  You  could  not  have  put  a  prettier  crown 
on  this  day  than  this  kind  of  invitation.  And  I  mean 
to  do  honor  to  all  these  appetizing  things  —  the  fact 
is  that,  in  the  anxiety  of  preparing  my  address,  I 
have  scarcely  eaten  anything  all  day,  and  I  am  as 
hungry  as  a  bear." 

"I  am  glad  of  that.  So  let  us  sit  down.  Let  the 
feast  begin!" 

"Even  the  stage-setting  is  festive,"  remarked 
Helmer.  "I  never  saw  your  rooms  lighted  in  the 
evening  before.  .  .  .  This  subdued  rose-light  is  magi 
cal  in  its  effect." 

"Oh,"  sighed  Franka,  "it  is  impossible  here  to 
escape  from  the  magical.  Don't  you  find  also  that 
it  brings  with  it  some  homesickness  for  the  simple 
and  commonplace?  .  .  .  Please,  take  a  bit  of  this 
patty." 

Helmer  helped  himself.  "Yes,  there  seems  to  be 
a  sort  of  pendulum  law  in  our  wishes." 

"Then,  what  would  be  the  equilibrium?  To  be 
without  a  wish?  But  let  us  not  philosophize  —  let 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

us  chat.  We  should  have  so  much  serious  talk  that 
I  would  rather  not  begin.  Your  address  —  I  have 
not  as  yet  said  a  word  about  it  to  you,  let  me  shake 
hands  with  you  ...  it  was  fine!  That  address  with 
its  wide  outlook,  —  it  would  lead  to  such  deeply 
serious  discussion  on  a  hundred  abstract  things!" 

"Then  we  will  not  talk  about  it,"  assented 
Helmer. 

"But  please  fill  the  glasses,"  Franka  held  out 
her  champagne-cup.  "If  we  are  not  going  to  talk 
about  your  lecture,  let  us  drink  to  the  hope  that 
what  you  suggested  to  our  fellow-men  may  be  ful 
filled." 

They  touched  glasses. 

"May  also  what  your  teaching  promises  be  ful 
filled,  Franka  Garlett, "  said  Helmer;  "will  you  not 
join  us,  Frau  von  Rockhaus  .  .  .  may  I  fill  your 
glass?" 

Frau  Eleonore  shook  her  head:  "Thank  you,  I 
only  drink  tea  .  .  .  and  to  tell  you  frankly,  these 
toasts  are  too  vague.  Let  our  contemporaries  and 
those  who  come  after  us  look  after  their  own  good. 
Won't  you  folks  also  think  a  little  about  yourselves? 
I  am  ready  to  drain  my  cup  of  tea  to  the  nail-test 
if  the  toast  shall  be:  'Three  cheers  to  Franka,'  or 
'  Three  cheers  to  Helmer, '  or  even  a  cheer  or  two 
to  Eleonore.  .  .  .  And  please  understand,  the  fate  of 
the  last-named  lady  affects  me  more  than  that  of 
unborn  generations!" 

"Good!"  cried  Franka;  "agreed.  Health  to  the 
three  of  us!  —  a  ninefold  cheer!" 

The  glasses  clinked.  Then  Franka  leaned  her 
317 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

head  back  on  the  cushion  of  the  easy-chair  and, 
smiling,  closed  her  eyes.  "At  this  moment  I  do 
have  an  attack  of  selfishness.  ...  I  feel  all  thrilled 
with  a  longing  for  .  .  .  for  ..." 

"Happiness?"  suggested  Helmer. 

"That  expresses  too  much.  Only  a  deep,  heart- 
filling  joy.  But  not  a  lonely  joy  ...  I  want  your 
company,  dear  friends."  So  saying,  she  stretched 
out  her  hands  to  left  and  right,  and  laid  them  on  the 
arms  of  her  two  table  companions. 

Helmer  felt  this  touch  like  an  electric  shock. 
What  filled  his  heart  was  not  an  unquestioning, 
unwishing  joy;  rather  it  was  a  dream-happiness 
which  flashed  through  him  like  lightning.  But  what 
this  flash  of  lightning  revealed  was  a  burning  sand 
waste  of  hopeless  yearning.  More  clearly  than  the 
impulse  of  jealousy  which  he  had  recently  experi 
enced,  this  instantaneous  burst  of  glowing  tender 
ness  showed  him  that  he  loved,  as  passionately  as 
man  ever  loved.  It  was  fortunate  that  the  com 
panion's  presence  checked  his  impulse,  for  he  was 
strongly  tempted  to  fling  himself  at  Franka's  feet 
and  confess  to  her  what  made  him  so  deeply  un 
happy.  But  he  controlled  himself.  Franka  must 
not  be  aware  of  the  tempest  that  raged  in  his  soul. 
He  would  not  spoil  the  calm  joy  to  which  she  had 
referred ;  yet  he  could  not  help  knowing  the  source 
of  this  joy  —  could  it  be  that  on  the  very  day  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  as  to  her  future?  Had  the 
prince  declared  himself?  But  if  that  was  the  case, 
why  was  he  not  sitting  by  her  side  instead  of  Brother 
Chlodwig?  Well,  possibly  she  had  not  considered 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

that  proper.  She  had  only  invited  the  harmless 
"Brother"  in  order  to  confide  in  him  her  joy,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  let  into  the  secret  of  the 
change  of  her  destiny,  he  who  had  hitherto  exerted 
such  a  powerful  influence  on  her  life,  he  who  had 
been  the  guide  in  her  vocation,  the  master  builder 
of  her  fame.  These  thoughts  had  not  occupied  ten 
seconds.  He  took  her  hand  which  still  lay  on  his 
arm  and  held  it  firmly  with  a  tender  pressure. 

"Tell  me  the  ground  of  your  joy,  dearest  Franka 
...  let  us  speak  of  your  future. " 

Franka  had  not  changed  her  position.  Her  eyes 
were  still  closed,  her  head  leaning  back:  "No,  no, 
nothing  of  the  future  now.  I  wanted  to  anchor  my 
joyous  feeling  in  the  present,  that  only  safe  anchor 
age  .  .  .  But  I  am  willing"  —  she  sat  erect  and  with 
drew  her  hand  —  "I  am  willing  ...  let  us  talk  of 
my  future  plans.  I  decided  day  before  yesterday 
to  withdraw  from  publicity.  That  address  is  to  be 
my  last. " 

"Is  that  his  wish?" 

"Whose  wish?  .  .  .  Oh,  I  see  what  you  mean. 
.  .  .  You  are  mistaken.  If  what  you  imagine  had 
come  about,  then,  of  course,  the  lecture  trips  would 
have  had  to  cease,  but  it  has  not  come  about. " 

"It  will,"  interrupted  Frau  Eleonore,  "if  you 
mean  by  this  mysterious  reference  the  threatened 
proposal  of  the  violet  prince." 

"Even  in  that  case  it  is  a  question  how  I  should 
deal  with  it,"  retorted  Franka. 

A  stone  fell  from  Chlodwig's  heart.  .  .  .  Now  he, 
too,  felt  flooded  with  the  joy  of  the  present. 

319 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"My  decision,"  pursued  Franka,  "is  quite  in 
dependent  of  these  eventualities.  It  takes  its  rise 
from  entirely  new  views,  intuitions,  and  wishes  which 
have  come  to  me  here  during  this  wonderful  week. " 

"And  you  are  going  to  give  up  your  activity?" 

"Traveling  and  public  speaking,  yes.  I  see  be 
fore  me  other  possibilities  of  work.  And,  besides, 
did  you  not  advise  pretty  much  the  same  thing 
after  my  last  address?" 

"Did  I?" 

"Yes,  and  you  were  right.  ...  I  feel  it." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  then,  Franka?  What 
are  your  plans  —  your  plan  independent  of  the  case 
'Victor  Adolph'?" 

"I  am  going  to  ...  but  it  is  not  so  entirely  clear 
tome  ..." 

"So,  then  the  case  'Victor  Adolph'  is  not  alto 
gether  out  of  question!" 

Franka  laughed:  "How  persistent  you  are.  You 
seem  very  anxious  for  me  to  have  that  chance.  You 
were  the  first  to  call  my  attention  to  it.  Moreover, 
I  can  imagine  how  eagerly  you  must  think  of  this 
affair  and  desire  it.  Don't  you?  You  mean  that  if 
I  should  win  power  over  the  heart  and  actions  of 
one  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth,  I  might  then 
exert  an  influence,  might  be  useful  to  my  —  to  our 
ideals?" 

" I  might  believe  that  —  but  wish  it?"  He  shook 
his  head.  "Oh,  let 's  not  talk  about  that  possibility 
—  it  is  much  nicer  not  to  do  so." 

"Let  us  talk  about  yourself,  then.  You  are  cer 
tainly  no  'case,'  but  the  theme  interests  me." 

320 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"It  interests  me,  too, — especially  if  you  treat 
it." 

"Do  you  know,  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of 
an  entirely  new  Helmer  to-day.  .  .  .  Through  your 
address  ...  I  followed  it  all  —  all  its  political  and 
social  and  high-thinking  parts,  but  one  thing  espe 
cially  impressed  me:  You  are  a  good  man. " 

"That  compliment  does  not  always  sound  flatter- 
ing." 

"Oh,  but  you  must  have  recognized  from  my  tone 
how  I  mean  it.  Moreover,  the  way  in  which  you 
spoke  about  Good  Will,  about  Goodness,  the  rank 
that  you  assigned  to  that  quality  as  a  motor  power 
for  all  spiritual  elevation,  —  you  see,  I  understood 
you,  —  proves  to  me  that  you  would  prize  no  com 
pliment  higher  than  this.  Or  would  you  have  pre 
ferred  that  I  had  said  'a  clever  man'?  Applied 
to  a  world-renowned  poet  —  that  would  have  been 
tautology.  And  that  term  carries  no  warmth  with 
it.  When  you  say  to  any  one,  'You  are  good, '  that 
is  equivalent  to  saying,  '  I  thank  you. '  It  is  as  if 
you  would  cradle  your  head  on  his  heart  and  say, 
'  Oh,  here  —  here  is  safety. ' ' 

"Franka!" 

Both  were  silent  for  a  while,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes.  What  is  that  substance  called  which 
often  goes  bombarding  back  and  forth  between  the 
steady  eyes  of  a  man  and  of  a  woman? —  It  has 
not  as  yet  found  its  Madame  Curie. 

Frau  von  Rockhaus  broke  the  spell  by  asking 
Helmer  what  the  two  rulers  had  conversed  with 
him  about.  He  informed  her.  And  now  the  conver- 

321 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

sation  turned  for  a  while  on  the  events  of  the  even 
ing.  He  also  told  them  about  his  meeting  with  the 
engineer  Juillot.  Franka  on  her  part  gave  an  amus 
ing  description  of  her  aunt's  last  call.  Now  gayly, 
now  seriously,  the  talk  went  from  one  subject  to 
another  and  the  time  flew.  Franka  sprang  up  as 
the  clock  struck  twelve. 

"Midnight  already!  Now  we  must  say  good 
night." 

Helmer  had  also  risen  to  his  feet.  "Forgive  me 
for  staying  so  ontrageously  long  ...  but  it  has  been 
so  lovely!" 

"Yes,  it  has  been  lovely,"  assented  Franka. 

Words  of  thanks  and  of  farewell  followed.  Still 
talking,  Franka  took  a  few  steps  by  Helmer's  side 
toward  the  door.  Then  suddenly  she  stepped  on 
something  soft,  that  lay  on  the  floor  —  a  little  piece 
of  orange-peel  —  and  slipped.  She  would  have 
fallen,  had  not  Helmer  caught  her  with  his  strong 
arm.  Then  only  Franka  uttered  a  little  cry. 

"Did  you  hurt  yourself?" 

"No,  no;  it  was  nothing. "  And  she  released  her 
self.  "Adieu." 

After  Helmer  had  again  shaken  hands  with  the 
two  ladies  and  departed,  Franka  remained  standing 
for  some  little  time  on  the  spot,  lost  in  dreams. 

"Well, what  is  it?  What  are  you  thinking  about?" 
asked  Frau  Rockhaus. 

Franka  shook  her  head  and  made  no  answer. 
She  was  thinking  of  the  bar  of  the  blind. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

SUNDRY  CONVERSATIONS 

THE  next  afternoon  many  scattered  groups  were 
sitting  again  in  the  hall  of  the  Grand  Hotel,  and  in 
the  majority  of  them  the  conversation  turned  on 
Chlodwig  Helmer's  address.  Translations  of  it  into 
French,  English,  and  Italian  were  lying  about  on 
the  tables.  Some  of  the  hotel  guests  held  in  their 
hands  Helmer's  book  "Schwingen."  The  works  of 
all  the  authors  present  in  the  Toker  palace  were 
not  only  to  be  found  in  the  Lucerne  bookshops,  but 
were  for  sale  also  in  the  various  hotels.  Many 
visitors  who  had  heard  the  poet's  address,  the  day 
before,  had  now  got  the  work  that  had  made  his 
name  famous  and  were  eagerly  turning  its  pages. 

In  one  corner  sat  Bruning,  Malhof,  and  Regen- 
burg  chatting  over  their  wine  and  cigars.  They 
were  discussing  their  fellow-countryman,  Helmer. 

"He  was  a  schoolmate  of  mine,"  Bruning  was 
saying.  "Not  at  all  a  remarkable  scholar:  weak  in 
mathematics;  hardly  up  in  the  ancient  languages. 
His  teachers,  however,  were  easy  on  him  —  he  was 
the  son  of  a  cabinet  minister. " 

The  well-known  sportsman  exclaimed  in  astonish 
ment:  "Oh,  you  don't  say  so?  I  had  supposed  he 
used  to  be  a  secretary  or  the  like  with  a  count ..." 

"Quite  right,  he  was  ...  at  one  time.  His  par 
ents  died  early;  his  property  was  gone;  he  did  not 

323 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

stick  to  his  career  as  government  clerk;  poetizing 
had  got  into  his  blood ;  he  was  always  in  the  clouds, 
even  on  the  school  form  .  .  .  and  then  he  accepted 
a  position  which  afforded  him  leisure  for  writing. 
After  he  left  the  count's  house,  he  devoted  himself 
entirely  to  the  art  of  poetry.  I  should  have  expected 
a  more  brilliant  career  for  him." 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Malhof,  "is  n't  that  a  rather 
brilliant  career  —  being  a  celebrated  poet?" 

Bruning  shrugged  his  shoulders:  "What  is  it  to 
be  a  celebrated  poet  in  our  country,  while  one  is 
alive?  Did  you  ever  meet  one  at  court?  Is  a  street 
ever  named  after  one?  And  one  was  never  known 
to  get  rich  like  a  successful  operetta  composer  or  a 
brewer.  My  friend  Helmer  ought  to  make  a  good 
match.  I  had  schemed  one  for  him  long  ago.  But 
he  is  so  horribly  unpractical  —  you  could  see  that 
from  his  address  yesterday.  These  sentimental  im 
possibilities  !  Lack  of  tact  —  talks  there  before  a 
public  audience  composed  of  kings,  statesmen,  people 
of  the  world,  as  if  it  were  a  gathering  of  Socialists. " 

"Yes,"  said  the  sportsman  in  confirmation,  "I 
noticed  that  he  attacked  military  institutions  with 
especial  virulence  —  like  a  real  Red.  He  apparently 
thinks  it  is  not  right  for  aeronautics  and  aviation 
to  be  used  for  military  purposes.  That  is  unpa 
triotic.  I  long  ago  enlisted  in  the  volunteer  auto 
mobile  corps  and  I  should  not  hesitate  to  place  my 
flying-machine  at  the  disposal  of  the  Ministry  of 
War.  But,  by  Jove!  that  was  a  marvelous  exhibi 
tion  of  flying  the  day  before  yesterday.  I  must  get 
a  pair  of  folding  wings  like  those!" 

324 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"To  return  to  Helmer,"  said  Malhof.  "A  good 
deal  that  he  said  was  rather  striking  .  .  .  things 
that  I  had  never  thought  of  before,  though  I  am  an 
old  man  of  wide  experience;  things,  the  possibility 
and  desirability  of  which  I  must  admit." 

"Really!"  cried  Bruning.  "Such  changes  —  that 
will  turn  things  upside  down  —  do  they  seem  desir 
able  to  you?" 

"Desirable  for  the  next  generation,  not  for  our 
own,  for  people  do  not  like  to  be  disturbed  in  their 
quiet  and  in  their  habits.  We  do  not  only  say,  '  After 
us  the  deluge';  we  also  say,  'After  us  the  millen 
nium  ' ;  for  in  order  to  bring  it  about,  we  should  have 
to  make  quite  too  inconvenient  efforts  ...  let  our 
great-grandchildren  attain  a  golden  age ;  we  ourselves 
are  quite  comfortable  in  our  present  circumstances; 
we  want  to  go  on  enjoying  the  present  order  of  things 
and  educate  our  boys  to  do  the  same." 

Bruning  nodded  his  head  in  assent:  "  We  say  this 
—  but  our  friend  Regenburg  is  right:  the  Socialists 
think  otherwise;  they  are  not  contented  with  the 
circumstances ;  they  want  revolution ;  therefore  such 
cloud-storming  addresses  are  not  merely  unpracti 
cal;  they  are  dangerous,  and  we  must  be  on  our 
guard  against  them." 

"'T  is  not  necessary,"  replied  Malhof.  "Active 
measures  against  them  would  only  profit  the  rev 
olutionists.  All  their  dreaming,  speechmaking,  dis 
sertations  remain  inoperative  through  the  vast  pas 
sive  resistance  which  they  buck  up  against  —  a 
wholly  unconscious  resistance,  for  it  is  combined 
of  indifference  and  absolute  ignorance.  If  one  of 

325 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

them  speaks  in  an  assembly  and  the  assembly  ap 
plauds,  then  he  believes  that  he  has  conquered  a 
comprehending  world  of  his  contemporaries.  Never 
theless,  not  only  does  the  world  of  his  contempo 
raries  remain  unmoved,  but  even  among  the  as 
sembled  audience  the  majority,  when  they  have  left 
the  hall,  scarcely  remember  what  arguments  have 
been  put  before  them.  How  little  interest  men  feel 
in  universal  questions!  Most  people  do  not  even 
know  that  there  are  circumstances  that  might  be 
changed.  Everything  that  exists  in  the  social  and 
political  line,  they  take  for  granted,  like  the  weather 
and  the  seasons.  It  is  easy  enough  to  hear  about 
those  matters,  but  to  take  an  active  part  in  them, 
that  is  another  thing.  People  have  so  many  pri 
vate  interests  which  are  wholly  absorbing  —  their 
career,  their  business,  their  trade,  their  passions, 
their  family  cares,  their  bitter  days  and  their  joyous 
festivals  —  there  is  no  room  for  speculations  and 
Utopias  and  revolutions.  Existing  institutions  have 
their  competent  directors  regularly  appointed  to 
look  after  their  management,  or,  in  case  of  neces 
sity,  to  bring  about  reform;  but  we  do  not  have  to 
get  mixed  up  in  it  ...  everything  revolutionary  is 
so  inconvenient;  it  disturbs  every  kind  of  activity 
—  Heaven  protect  us  from  it!  You  see,  that  is  the 
state  of  mind  of  the  compact  masses.  And  so  let 
the  world  reformers  talk  themselves  hoarse.  When 
they  are  talked  out,  it  is  burnt-out  fireworks  — 
nothing  more!" 

"Do  you  reckon  yourself  also  among  the  'com 
pact  masses,'  Herr  von  Malhof?"  asked  Bruning. 

326 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Certainly  I  do.  Never  in  my  life  have  I  taken 
any  interest  in  the  so-called  'questions.'  I  have 
had  far  too  much  to  do  in  making  my  existence  as 
pleasant  and  enjoyable  as  possible.  For  me,  the 
wisdom  of  life  consists  in  making  the  little  square 
metre  of  existence  which  we  possess  as  comfortable 
as  we  can,  in  trying  to  embellish  it,  without  at  the 
same  time  staring  at  the  thousand-mile  stretches 
that  lie  beyond.  And  then,  one  thing  more,  my  good 
friend:  to  battle  against  thousand-year-old  institu 
tions  with  addresses  and  volumes  of  poems,  as  your 
honored  friend  does,  is  like  scratching  away  Chim- 
borazo  with  a  nail-file.  As  far  as  I  could  make  out, 
Herr  Helmer  strikes  at  the  belt-line  of  militarism 
with  his  aeronautic  arguments  —  I  could  not  repeat 
them  —  the  things  rebound  from  my  memory  like 
dry-peas  from  a  wall.  Just  look  at  our  military 
establishment  at  home.  How  does  it  stand  there? 
Is  n't  it  just  like  a  Chimborazo?  All  that  glory,  that 
prestige,  that  power — there  is  only  one  other  power 
comparable  to  it  —  the  Church.  That  is  the  reason 
the  two  stand  by  each  other  so  firmly.  And  really 
are  not  all  who  have  their  habitations  at  the  foot  of 
these  Chimborazos  perfectly  contented?  Have  n't 
they  planted  there  all  their  joy,  their  ambition, 
their  fame,  their  ideas  of  virtue?  .  .  .  What  is  the 
good,  then,  of  frightening  them  out  of  their  com 
fortable  security  under  the  pretext  that  other  and 
more  comfortable  conditions  are  to  be  created  for 
coming  generations?  No,  your  young  friend  must 
not  cherish  any  illusions;  believe  me,  he  will 
not.  .  ." 

327 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Why  do  you  say  all  this  to  me?"  interrupted 
Bruning;  "I  am  entirely  of  your  opinion  and  have 
never  pretended  to  Helmer  that  I  shared  his  illu 
sions.  I  know  the  world  better  than  he  does. 
.  .  .  '  One  cannot  think  highly  enough  of  man ' !  — 
such  an  idea  as  that  can  only  be  expressed  by  a 
philosopher  far  removed  from  reality,  and  repeated 
by  a  cloud-sailing  poet.  Well,  and  what  do  you  say, 
Regenburg?" 

"I  —  what  do  I  say?  —  About  what? " 

"Have  n't  you  been  listening?" 

"Oh,  yes  —  I  —  well,  I  am  afraid  that  through 
all  these  new  sports,  —  especially  in  the  air,  —  the 
horses  will  entirely  die  out. " 

"Even  Pegasuses?"  suggested  Malhof,  laughing. 

In  another  niche  sat  Romeo  Rinotti  and  Gaston 
de  la  Rochere  in  a  colloquy.  They,  too,  were  dis 
cussing  the  yesterday's  address.  The  Frenchman 
held  the  translation  of  Helmer 's  speech  in  his  hand. 
He  looked  disgusted. 

"What  do  you  say  to  it?  Have  you  read  it 
through?"  asked  Rinotti. 

"I  have  just  glanced  over  it,  my  dear  Marquis. 
And  that  has  sufficed  to  make  me  angry  enough." 
He  flung  the  pamphlet  on  the  table.  "German  poets 
should  confine  themselves  to  singing  about  forget- 
me-nots,  but  not  deliver  discourses  about  things 
they  do  not  understand.  WThat  does  this  one  know 
about  the  action  of  airships  in  the  war  to  come? 
Or  perhaps  he  wants  to  spoil  the  pleasure  of  other 
nations  in  building  air-fleets,  because  Germany  — 

328 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

thanks  to  her  Zeppelin  —  has  gone  so  far  ahead. 
...  In  return  our  single  flyers  are  far  more  numer 
ous  and  much  better  perfected.  Besides,  we  have 
really  made  a  beginning  with  the  dirigibles  .  .  . 
might  far  more  easily  reach  the  forefront  again,  if 
this  miserable  pestilential  republic  would  only  look 
out  better  for  the  national  defense." 

Rinotti  laughed:  "So  then  you  are  an  arch-royal 
ist?  But  you  are  really  doing  injustice  to  your  pres 
ent  r6gime ;  just  see  how  in  the  last  few  years  your 
expenditure  for  the  army  and  the  fleet  has  mounted 
up." 

"Oh,  stuff;  that  is  only  hypocrisy  .  .  .  they  are 
afraid  of  arousing  the  anger  of  genuine  patriots, 
and  consequently  they  do  not  venture  to  hold  back 
the  funds  as  much  as  they  would  like  to;  but  at  the 
same  time  they  have  n't  the  slightest  intention  of 
standing  up  boldly  for  the  honor  of  France." 

"You  mean  the  Revanche.  Certainly,  only  a  very 
few  of  your  fellow-countrymen  wish  for  that  any 
longer." 

"That  is  just  the  trouble.  Magnanimous  feelings, 
bold  ideas  are  dying  out.  .  .  .  No,  not  quite  so  bad 
as  that  .  .  .  they  still  live,  but  they  are  suppressed, 
kept  down  .  .  .  and  what  can  you  expect  as  long  as 
a  party  is  in  power  sacrilegious  enough  to  lay  violent 
hands  on  the  Church?  Thence  only  one  thing  can 
rescue  our  poor  land:  to  restore  the  monarchy." 

"Are  you  a  leader  of  les  Camelots  du  Roy ? "  asked 
Rinotti. 

"No;  the  methods  of  these  young  men  are  too 
coarse  for  me  —  they  even  shock  the  claimants  them- 

329 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

selves.  Yet  I  am  undisturbed :  Dieu  protege  la  France. 
In  one  way  or  another  Providence  will  restore  to  us 
our  old  rights.  If  not  a  king,  perhaps  a  dictator,  or 
a  great  soldier  will  come.  .  .  .  We  have  already  had 
one  or  two  attempts  to  that  end:  Boulanger,  Mar- 
chand  .  .  .  the  right  one  will  sometime  appear,  and 
if  he  should  succeed  in  winning  back  the  beloved 
provinces,  even  if  he  should  merely  wave  the  colors 
in  order  to  hasten  to  the  frontier,  then,  —  then  all 
Frenchmen  would  follow  him  with  wild  enthusiasm." 

Rinotti  shook  his  head.  "Do  you  believe  so?  I 
opine  that  a  war  which  your  nationalists  themselves 
should  start  would  no  longer  be  popular  in  the  coun 
try.  The  storm  must  break  out  somewhere  else: 
Germany  would  have  to  be  entangled  in  war  with 
England  or  Russia;  then  France  might  go  to  their 
help  and  in  the  natural  course  of  events  the  Revanche 
might  come  of  itself;  even  the  regime  might  be 
changed.  Why,  even  a  defeat  might  result  in  over 
turning  the  republic  and  the  new  king  might  have 
the  chance  of  restoring  the  conditions  that  you  de 
sire." 

"That  would  be  fine!  But  how  can  one  look  for 
ward  to  such  events  when  everywhere  these  anti- 
military  doctrines  are  making  their  way  not  only  in 
Socialist  congresses,  but  even  in  public  entertain 
ments,  like  these  here  —  and  in  presence  of  the  heads 
of  States!" 

"Words,  words!"  exclaimed  Rinotti  scornfully: 
"borne  away  by  the  wind.  And  even  if  the  wind 
should  carry  away  a  few  fruitful  seeds,  when  will 
they  sprout?  —  In  the  far,  distant  future.  Mean- 

330 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

time,  however,  deeds  come  to  the  front .  .  .  deeds  of 
the  present,  which  are  the  fruits  of  seeds  scattered 
in  the  past.  The  old  hatred,  the  old  distrust,  the 
long  cumulated  threats:  all  that  must  rage  itself 
out  first.  And  the  entire  world  of  to-day  is  prepared 
for  it ;  school  has  trained  for  it,  the  masses  are  drilled 
for  it;  the  instruments  are  ready.  And  how  easily 
do  these  latent  forces  break  out  into  acute  manifes 
tation  !  What  is  preached  by  good  people,  but  bad 
politicians,  —  a  la  Helmer,  —  arouses  no  fanaticism, 
however  conciliatory,  however  reasonable  it  may 
sound.  Can  one  ever  bring  conciliation  to  fever- 
heat  or  reason  to  a  flame?  Ah,  believe  me,  only  the 
violent  instincts  drive  the  machinery  called  history. 
And  those  who  are  elected  to  make  history  need 
nothing  else  but  force,  and  again  force,  in  order  to 
keep  the  machine  going  in  the  direction  which  they 
want.  And  the  general  conception  '  force '  splits  into 
separate  qualities:  unbending  will,  unscrupulous- 
ness,  inflexibility,  formidableness  —  these  are  the 
attributes  of  the  great  statesman.  But  only  in  his 
political  activity ;  as  a  private  citizen  he  must  at  the 
same  time  be  amiable,  yielding,  full  of  good  humor, 
tender  to  his  family,  polite  to  his  subordinates  —  in 
general,  what  is  called  'un  charmeur.'  In  addition 
he  must  have  genius;  and  this,  too,  is  needed:  he 
must  have  luck!" 

La  Rochere  had  accompanied  Rinotti's  utterance 
with  nods  of  satisfaction.  "You  are  a  wise  states 
man!"  he  exclaimed;  and  leaning  over  to  look  the 
marchese  in  the  eye,  he  asked  in  a  lower  tone  of 
voice:  "Tell  me,  is  there  likelihood  of  war  breaking 

33i 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

out  anywhere?    Do  you  perchance  know  anything 
about  it?" 

Rinotti  bit  his  lips:  "  I  know  nothing,  and  if  I  did, 
I  should  not  tell." 

Prince  Victor  Adolph  was  sitting  on  his  balcony, 
reading  over  and  over  a  letter  which  he  had  received 
that  morning  from  home.  Its  writer  was  his  oldest 
brother,  the  crown  prince,  who  informed  him,  under 
the  seal  of  confidence,  that  an  old  project,  which 
had  once  before  been  broached  and  then  dropped, 
had  come  to  the  front  again  and  was  on  the  point 
of  accomplishment.  The  point  was,  that  Victor 
Adolph  was  to  be  made  regent  of  a  border  prov 
ince  which  was  aspiring  to  independence.  By  this 
appointment,  the  province  would  immediately  find 
its  desires  for  autonomy  fulfilled.  This  was  a  tempt 
ing  outlook:  anything  rather  than  the  empty  show 
of  military  service  so  detestable  to  him.  In  this  po 
sition,  opportunity  would  be  afforded  him  of  work 
ing  up,  of  carrying  out  plans  the  mighty  outlines 
of  which  hovered  before  his  mind.  A  joyous  feeling 
of  expectation  stirred  the  young  man's  soul.  The 
future,  the  future  —  it  lay  open  before  him ;  and  he 
would  fill  it  with  progressive  ideas,  with  progressive 
deeds,  with  "soaring  thoughts"  ...  He  dwelt  on 
these  words. 

Then  an  idea  suggested  itself  to  him.  He  went 
to  a  writing-table,  dashed  off  a  few  lines  on  a  sheet 
of  paper,  and  rang. 

"Take  this  immediately  to  the  Rose- Palace,"  he 
ordered  the  servant  who  responded  to  his  summons. 

332 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  note  was  addressed  to  Chlodwig  Helmer,  and 
contained  an  invitation  to  Mr.  Helmer  to  call  on 
the  prince  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  if  he  had 
time. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Chlodwig  sent  in  his 
name.  The  prince  was  in  his  salon  alone.  He  started 
forward  to  meet  his  visitor. 

Helmer  bowed :  — 

"Your  Royal  Highness  summoned  me  ..." 

Victor  Adolph  offered  him  his  hand:  "Thank  you 
for  fulfilling  my  wish  so  promptly.  Yesterday  even 
ing  we  had  no  opportunity,  and  I  was  so  desirous 
of  hearing  a  good  deal  more  on  the  subject  of  your 
address.  Let  us  sit  down.  .  .  .  Here,  please.  A  cigar 
ette?"  He  held  out  his  gold  cigarette-case. 

Chlodwig  thanked  him  and  took  one.  The  prince 
also  offered  him  a  light  and  then  kindled  his  own. 

"You  see,  Herr  Helmer,"  he  pursued,  "what  you 
said  yesterday  evening  moved  me  tremendously. 
Partly,  because  you  gave  utterance  to  ideas  which 
have  been  for  a  long  time  floating  indefinitely  in  my 
mind,  and  partly  because  you  opened  up  before  me 
entirely  new  perspectives." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  such  a  thing,  Your  High 
ness.  Tell  me  what  was  familiar  to  you  and  what  was 
new?" 

"There  is,  for  example,  .  .  .  good  Heavens,  I 
really  don't  know  where  to  begin.  ...  I  should  like 
to  have  a  lesson  in  things  which  you  did  not  speak 
about.  I  will  ask  you:  If  you  were  a  king,  what 
would  you  do  to  carry  out  the  lofty  flight  of  your 
ideals?" 

333 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"If  I  were  a  king,"  repeated  Chlodwig  thought 
fully.  "Many  a  man  has  imagined  to  himself  that 
contingency.  Sifetais  roi  is  the  title  of  an  opera.  — 
If  I  were  a  king,  then  I  should  have  lived  in  other 
conditions,  should  have  had  another  kind  of  educa 
tion,  inherited  other  instincts.  .  .  .  The  love  of  sol 
diering  would  be  inherent  in  my  blood  —  the  first 
king  was  a  victorious  soldier;  —  the  concept  'Ma 
jesty,'  mounting  from  the  humbly  bowing  masses, 
would  have  risen  to  my  head,  stinging  and  bewitch 
ing  me,  like  the  bubbling  spirits  rising  in  champagne- 
cups.  .  .  .  My  breast  would  be  swelled  with  the  con 
sciousness  of  power.  I  should  probably  not  let  it  be 
noticed,  and  I  should  take  pains  to  seem  affable  and 
natural.  I  should  be  well  aware  that  my  power  was 
to  a  certain  degree  limited  in  modern,  constitutional, 
and  enlightened  times,  and,  therefore,  I  should  in 
stinctively  fear  what  threatens  it  still  more :  revo 
lutionary  ideas  and  activities;  and  likewise  should 
instinctively  prize  all  that  protected  it:  my  faithful 
nobles,  my  loyal  army;  on  the  whole,  the  conserva 
tive  spirit.  I  should  simply  know  nothing  of  the 
struggles  and  problems  and  aims  of  the  progressive 
spirit.  'Liberal,'  in  the  court-jargon,  is  synonymous 
with  'suspicious,'  and  'radical';  signifying  a  will 
power,  which  goes  to  the  very  root  of  things,  is 
synonymous  with  'criminal.'  I  should  not  have  had 
much  experience  of  the  sorrows  of  the  poor  and 
wretched ;  that  would  be  to  me  as  remote  and  natu 
ral  as  a  pool  in  a  morass  or  the  debris  of  a  quarry. 
My  consolation  would  be  that  the  poor  people 
would  still  hope  for  compensation  beyond  the  grave, 

334 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

and  in  order  to  strengthen  them  in  this  hope,  I  should 
set  them  an  example  of  piety  —  should  perhaps 
actually  be  pious,  through  the  necessity  slumbering 
in  every  better  soul  of  being  occasionally  humble. 
As  I  am  one  who  tries  to  do  right,  and  should  be  the 
same  if  I  were  a  king,  I  should  fulfill  scrupulously 
my  really  difficult  duties.  I  should  work  with  zeal 
and  industry.  For  recreation  and  pleasure,  I  should 
go  hunting.  Indeed,  this  sport  would  involve  a  cer 
tain  amount  of  ambition,  for  I  should  be  well  aware 
of  the  respectful  interest  with  which  the  world 
would  chronicle  every  successful  shot  of  my  rifle 
and  be  ready  to  erect  a  monument  in  memory  of 
my  thousandth  stag.  I  should  ..." 

"Stop!"  cried  the  prince;  "you  are  unfair!" 
"Quite  possibly.  I  have  been  generalizing,  and  in 
doing  so,  one  cannot  be  fair.  And  above  all,  Your 
Royal  Highness,  I  regret  having  somewhat  failed  in 
due  tact.  I  should  not  have  spoken  to  a  king's  son 
as  I  have.  But  because  I  know  that  you  are  quite 
different  from  the  others  ..." 

"But  you  are  also  unfair  to  those  others,  Herr 
Helmer.  Don't  you  believe  that  the  spirit  of  the  age 
also  makes  its  way  through  the  seams  of  palaces 
and  throne-rooms?  That  'lofty  thinking'  and  free 
thinking  are  also  carried  on  under  crowns?  Look 
at  those  little  German  courts  the  princes  of  which 
cherish  a  cult  for  art  or  promote  the  investigations 
and  activities  of  such  men  as,  for  example,  Ernst 
Haeckel !  And  this  '  lofty  thought '  for  which  you  seem 
especially  enthusiastic,  'universal  peace':  don't  you 
see  that  the  very  emperor  who  at  his  first  accession 

335 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  the  throne  was  expected  by  the  world  to  hanker 
after  military  laurels,  has  for  long  decades  done 
everything  he  could  to  avoid  war?" 

"I  recognize  that,"  answered  Helmer;  "but  the 
question  means  more  than  merely  not  waging  war; 
it  means  putting  down  war." 

"  I  call  your  attention  to  this:  I  just  remarked  the 
Emperor  has  done  what  he  could.  The  power  and 
will  of  a  great  ruler  stand  behind  mighty  barriers 
and  walls.  His  court,  his  army,  his  environment,  his 
whole  inheritance  of  traditional  principles  and  the 
institutions  which  he  is  placed  there  to  preserve  — 
all  these  things  combine  together  to  hamper  the 
accomplishment  of  his  aspirations.  The  portrait 
that  you  have  just  painted  of  a  king  does  not  apply 
any  longer  to  our  contemporary  rulers  in  their  in 
most  reality  —  yet  their  environment  combines  to 
make  them  such.  Now,  see  here,  my  dear  poet,  you 
were  complaining  that  they  knew  nothing  of  the 
sorrows  of  the  people;  you  are  right:  the  classes  are 
too  widely  separated;  they  know  nothing  of  each 
other.  So  it  is  with  the  princes:  those  that  do  not 
live  in  association  with  them  know  but  little  about 
them  and  form  false  notions;  they  conceive  them  to 
be  of  the  'demigod'  or  '  Serenissimus '  type,  but  in 
truth  they  are  exactly  like  other  men ;  differing  from 
one  another,  good  and  bad,  stupid  and  clever,  in 
significant  and  talented.  But  they  do  have  one  actual 
advantage:  they  control  more  power  and  influence 
than  ordinary  mortals,  and  for  that  reason  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  if  princes  were  to  come  forward  as 
champions  of  the  highest  aspirations  of  the  time." 

336 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"But  suppose  —  my  objection  may,  perhaps, 
again  sound  somewhat  tactless  —  but  suppose  these 
aspirations  include  what  Kant  once  laid  down  as  a 
postulate  —  that  monarchies  are  doomed  to  make 
way  for  a  republican  regime  ..." 

"This  will  not  be  accomplished  overnight." 

"  No ;  and  then  I  grant  you  that  the  question  is  not 
whether  the  r6gime  ought  to  change.  Governmental 
forms  are,  after  all,  only  forms  —  the  content  is  the 
important  thing.  What  must  change,  what  must 
grow,  is  the  spirit,  and  certainly  in  all  strata.  The 
general  level  of  all  mankind  must  rise.  I  myself 
should  not  like  to  see  the  control  of  government  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  masses  as  they  are  to-day." 

The  prince  made  a  somewhat  impatient  gesture. 
"  I  beg  of  you,  Herr  Helmer,  let  us  not  deal  in  gen 
eralities.  Yesterday,  I  heard  a  wonderfully  beautiful 
litany  of  them  proceed  from  your  lips ;  now  I  should 
like  something  positive,  concrete.  For  that  reason, 
I  put  my  question  to  you:  What  would  you  do  if 
you  were  a  king?  Do  —  work  at  —  that  is  the  gist 
of  the  matter.  And  a  king  can  do  things,  as  long  as 
Kant's  wish  is  not  as  yet  fulfilled  —  because  he  has 
much  power;  not  unlimited  power,  of  course.  Put 
to  yourself  this  case:  that  you  —  you  yourself,  no 
one  else,  you  with  all  your  experiences,  your  knowl 
edge,  your  poetic  accomplishment  —  were  suddenly 
made  a  powerful  king.  .  .  .  One  can  imagine  one's 
self  in  another  position  —  I  know  it  from  experi 
ence.  I  have  often  asked  myself,  if  I  were  a  com 
mon  soldier,  if  I  were  a  poor  proletarian,  how  should 
I  feel,  what  should  I  try  to  do  in  order  to  win  a  little 

337 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

happiness  and  freedom  for  myself  and  my  fellows,  or 
to  give  vent  to  my  wrath  over  the  unfairness  under 
which  we  sigh  and  drudge.  .  .  .  Perhaps  you  do  not 
know,  Helmer,  that  I  take  a  passionate  interest  in 
social  problems ;  that  often,  just  as  others  sneak  into 
gambling-hells  or  other  places  of  forbidden  pleasure, 
I  have  slipped  into  assemblies  where  the  Social 
ists  .  .  ." 

"I  know  it,  Your  Highness,"  interrupted  Helmer. 

The  prince  had  been  speaking  with  animated 
voice  and  his  cheeks  were  flushed.  Now  he  seized 
Chlodwig's  hand.  "So  then,  tell  me!  You  who  are 
a  poet  and  therefore  something  of  a  prophet;  you 
who  would  raise  goodness  to  the  level  of  a  motive 
force  for  political  action,  —  tell  me,  how  would  you 
help  the  people?" 

"What  people?  Mine?  Is  it  impossible  to  help 
one  people  alone.  In  our  day  of  universal  interna 
tional  intercourse  and  trade,  every  country  is  de 
pendent  on  every  other.  One  nation  cannot  by 
itself  be  rich,  happy,  and  independent.  The  nations 
are  not  hermits;  they  form  a  community.  In  my 
kingdom,  could  I  put  down  capitalism,  could  I  do 
away  with  war,  if  others  threatened  me  with  it;  if 
I  took  down  my  own  tariff  walls,  could  I  break 
through  the  limitations  of  the  others?  There  is 
no  individual  happiness  — '  reciprocally '  — '  cooper 
atively* —  'mutually*',  those  are  the  adverbs  without 
which  no  blissful  verb  can  be  conjugated." 

"Then  what  would  you  do?" 

"Seek  to  make  alliances  with  my  fellow- royalties. 
I  should  —  yet  I  have  no  perfected  plan  of  action 

338 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

in  my  mind,  Prince.  Only  one  thing  is  quite  clear: 
the  mechanicians  have  won  over  a  new  element 
which  for  many  thousands  of  years  they  never  dared 
hope  to  enter  into.  There  is  also  a  spiritual,  a  moral 
upper  ocean  into  which  hitherto  no  one  has  ven 
tured  to  steer  the  so-called  ship  of  State.  I  cherish 
the  faith  that  by  this  time  among  the  potentates, 
one  —  the  Zeppelin  —  is  born  and  will  work  and  ac 
complish,  and  dare  obstinately,  confidently,  prophet 
ically,  in  spite  of  all  doubts,  all  resistance ;  and  will 
let  his  ship  mount  up  into  those  heights  of  light.  .  .  . 
Pardon  me,  Prince,  I  have  one  great  fault  into  which 
I  am  always  falling :  speaking  far  too  much  in  meta 
phors." 

"Pardonable  in  a  poet." 

"But  you  wished  to  hear  something  concrete, 
positive,  —  in  this  respect  I  have  served  you  ill." 

"No;  your  Zeppelin  picture  gives  me  a  quite  cor 
rect  orientation.  First  one  must  gather  from  the  light 
of  reason,  even  if  no  experience  answers  for  it,  that  a 
thing  is  feasible ;  then  one  must  will  and  dare.  The 
individual  manipulations  will  come  into  play  later." 

Helmer  gazed  at  the  prince.  A  warm  wave  of  liking 
for  him  arose  in  his  heart;  then  instantly  this  same 
heart  seemed  to  contract  as  if  under  a  cold  pressure. 
The  thought  of  Franka  .' .  .  how  natural  it  would 
be  that  she  should  love  that  man.  .  .  . 

As  if  Victor  Adolph  had  read  the  poet's  thoughts, 
he  asked:  "You  are  an  old  acquaintance  of  Fraulein 
Garlett's,  are  you  not?" 

Chlodwig  gave  a  start.  "Yes,  Your  Royal  High 
ness." 

339 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"The  lady  interests  me  very  much.  Can  you  tell 
me  anything  of  her  story?" 

Helmer  told  him  what  he  knew:  the  secluded 
childhood  and  youth  with  her  father  who  was  in 
slender  circumstances;  her  worship  of  that  father; 
the  summons  to  the  grandfather's  home;  the  fabu 
lous  inheritance;  and  then  her  passionate  desire  to 
accomplish  some  great  work,  to  offer  herself  up  in  the 
service  of  her  fellow-men  —  as  if  an  atonement  for 
the  unearned  wealth ;  then  her  career  and  its  results. 

"  A  remarkable  fortune ! "  exclaimed  Victor  Adolph. 
"You  were  her  teacher?" 

"I?  Her  teacher?" 

"Yes,  she  told  me  so  herself." 

"She  meant  that  when  she  was  as  yet  uncertain 
how  she  might  find  the  great  thing  which  she  dreamed 
of  doing,  I  gave  her  some  advice." 

"And  has  not  this  pretty  young  woman  had  any 
love-affair  in  the  course  of  her  life?" 

"I  know  of  none." 

"  Is  she  so  cold?  She  must  have  had  many  suitors." 

"Indeed,  she  has.  She  has  been  much  sought 
after  and  has  refused  many  an  offer." 

"And  you  yourself,  Herr  Helmer,- in  all  this  giv 
ing  of  advice,  has  your  heart  remained  without  a 
wound?" 

"Your  Highness..  .  I  ..." 

"Well,  well;  it  was  an  indiscreet  question.  Pray 
don't  feel  obliged  to  answer  it." 

The  valet  brought  the  afternoon  mail  on  a  silver 
salver,  and  at  the  same  time  announced  that  His 
Excellency  the  adjutant  to  the  King  of  Italy  desired 

34° 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

to  see  His  Highness.   Chlodwig  arose  and  took  his 
departure. 

The  prince  shook  hands  with  him:  "Auf  wieder- 
sehen.  We  will  have  another  talk  —  not  on  indis 
creet  questions,  but  about  dirigible  ships  of  State." 

"Papa,  am  I  interrupting  you?" 

Gwendoline  stood  at  the  door  of  Toker's  room. 

"Of  course,  you  interrupt  me,  for  I  am  never 
unoccupied.  But  come  in,  Gwen;  it  will  do  me  good 
to  have  you  divert  me  a  little  from  all  kinds  of 
melancholy  things." 

The  young  girl  stepped  nearer.  "How  is  that? 
You  are  in  trouble !  Does  not  everything  go  accord 
ing  to  your  wish  in  this  rose-magic  of  which  you  are 
yourself  the  great  conjurer?" 

"Here  everything  is  fairly  satisfactory;  but  out 
side,  in  the  wide  world!"  And  he  indicated  a  heap 
of  newspapers  and  letters  lying  before  him  on  the 
table. 

While  glancing  through  these  messages  from  the 
outside  world,  John  Toker  had  been  spending  a 
couple  of  uncomfortable  hours.  Very  bad  tidings 
had  come.  Not  only  the  alarmist  predictions  which 
emanate  from  those  parties  that  always  have  on  tap 
announcements  of  an  unavoidable  war  with  this, 
that,  or  the  other  neighboring  State;  but  also  posi 
tive  proofs  that  in  various  places,  in  circles  that  had 
the  necessary  power  in  their  hands,  the  intention 
prevailed  to  deliver  the  blow.  In  more  than  one 
center  of  discord,  little  flames  were  rising  and  might 
easily  break  out  into  a  destructive  conflagration. 

34i 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  press  was  not  lacking  in  writers  who  were  work 
ing  with  poker  and  bellows  for  this  end  so  desirable 
to  them  for  many  reasons.  Fortunately  there  were 
not  lacking,  among  either  rulers  or  statesmen,  those 
who  were  using  their  best  endeavors  to  stamp  out 
the  dangerous  embers;  who  hesitated  about  draw 
ing  the  sword  even  when  they  were  provoked  — 
but  the  decision  finally  lies,  after  all,  with  the  ag 
gressive  and  not  with  the  opposing  portion. 

Not  only  from  the  papers,  but  also  from  private 
sources,  Toker  had  received  the  intimation  that 
dangerous  dissensions  were  likely  to  break  out.  He 
was  in  friendly  relationship  with  powerful  circles 
in  various  countries,  and  he  got  wind  of  much  that 
was  going  on  behind  the  scenes  in  politics.  Thus  it 
had  been  conveyed  to  him  that  day  that  one  coun 
try,  whose  chief  ruler  was  thoroughly  opposed  to 
war,  had  a  large  military  party  working  with  all 
its  might,  in  order  that  an  insignificant  question  at 
issue  should  be  made  the  cause  for  an  ultimatum. 
This  party  desired  to  march  right  in.  It  found  that 
the  moment  was  favorable.  The  victory  would  be 
easily  won;  glory  and  laurels  might  be  obtained; 
internal  dangers  fermenting  might  thus  be  obviated ; 
and  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  the  monarch  they 
were  plotting  to  aggravate  the  friction  in  order  that 
the  "marching  in"  might  be  plausible. 

However,  that  is  not  the  proper  word:  what  the 
war-lovers  in  question  had  in  mind  was  not  "march 
ing  in,"  but  "flying  in."  In  all  countries  the  air- 
fleets  had  attained  considerable  proportions,  but 
just  at  this  time  this  particular  State  had  made  a 

342 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

remarkable  advance.  Moreover,  a  new  invention 
in  the  domain  of  aviation  had  been  recently  made 
and  was  kept  a  great  secret,  and  a  new  explosive 
had  been  introduced.  With  this,  the  enemy  could 
be  annihilated  and  the  world  confounded.  The 
admiral  of  the  air-fleet  was  all  on  fire  to  enrich  the 
military  history  of  the  world  with  a  hitherto  un 
heard-of  battle  and  victory.  John  A.  Toker  felt  a 
quite  peculiar  horror  at  this  form  of  the  modern, 
ultra-modern  art  of  war;  not  only  because  he  ex 
pected  the  most  terrible  destruction  from  it;  but 
also  his  aesthetic  and  moral  feelings  were  revolted 
by  seeing  hell  carried  even  into  the  regions  of  the 
skies. 

Still  other  catastrophes  were  looming  on  the  hori 
zon:  bread  riots;  economic  crises;  terrorism  from 
below  by  assassination  and  incendiarism ;  terrorism 
from  above  by  executions;  .  .  .  and  for  those  who 
looked  far  ahead,  a  general  break-up;  civilization 
buried  under  ruins.  Can  this  be  the  end  and  goal 
of  mankind's  lofty  aspirations? 

Toker  felt  like  one  who  has  brought  a  wonder 
fully  beautiful  garden,  situated  at  the  foot  of  a 
mountain,  to  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  and  sud 
denly  notices  that  the  mountain  has  begun  to 
smoke. 

"Every  comparison  limps"  is  a  correct  expres 
sion:  the  lameness  in  this  figure  is,  that  the  destruc 
tion  streaming  from  the  fiery  depths  of  the  vol 
cano  is  the  work  of  incomprehensible,  uncontrollable 
powers  of  nature,  while  in  these  eruptions  treasured 
as  ''historical,"  men  themselves  have  fabricated 

343 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  lava,  and,  thanks  to  their  crater-deep  idiocy,  use 
it  for  their  own  destruction. 

Yet  not  all  the  news  that  had  been  brought  to 
Toker's  notice,  and  lay  there  in  a  great  pile,  was 
bad:  there  were  also  some  encouraging  items.  If 
one  attentively  listens  in  every  quarter,  one  can 
hear  the  subdued  regular  rumble  of  the  great  loom, 
where  the  genius  of  Progress  is  weaving  stitch  by 
stitch  the  web  of  Unity  which  is  bound  ultimately 
to  bring  together  the  whole  civilized  world.  Toker's 
alarm  grew  out  of  the  fact  that  the  all-reigning 
spirit  of  growth  is  often  interrupted  and  set  back 
by  the  spirit  of  destruction,  which  by  fits  and  starts 
exercises  its  harmful  calling  and  in  some  places  un 
does  what  seems  on  the  fairest  path  of  development. 

"Well,  Gwen,  what  amusing  thing  have  you  to 
tell  me?" 

"Amusing?  I  wanted  a  serious  talk  with  you, 
papa. " 

"You  —  and  serious!  But  really  you  look  quite 
solemn.  Has  anything  happened?" 

Gwendoline  made  several  attempts  to  speak,  and 
then  paused  again;  she  was  seeking  for  the  right 
words  and  could  not  find  them. 

"Courage,  Gwen!  Have  you  some  wish?" 

"More  than  that,  papa;  —  it  is  a  resolution." 

"Oho!  that  sounds  really  serious.  Perhaps  you 
want  to  marry  one  of  my  Rose-Knights.  We  should 
have  to  think  that  over  very  gravely." 

"You  are  making  sport  of  me,  papa.  I  believe 
you  consider  me  a  very  stupid  girl,  and,  indeed,  I 
know  I  am.  Up  till  now  I  have  not  taken  any  in- 

344 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

terest  in  all  the  great  things  which  you  are  working 
for.  But  in  these  last  few  days  my  eyes  have  been 
opened. " 

"Have  you  been  listening  to  all  the  things  that 
my  great  guests  have  said,  and  did  you  understand 
them?" 

"No,  not  all.  I  believed,  as  you  yourself  seem  to 
believe,  that  those  things  are  too  high  for  me ;  that 
I  could  not  understand  them;  that  they  had  noth 
ing  to  do  with  me.  Only  when  the  personal  appeal 
was  made  to  me,  did  I  prick  up  my  ears. " 

Mr.  Toker  raised  his  head  in  astonishment^. 
"An  appeal  made  to  you  personally?  How  so?  by 
whom?" 

"By  Franka  Garlett:  'Ye  young  maidens,  listen 
to  me!'  she  said.  I  listened  to  her  and  ..." 

"Well  .  .  .  and  .  .  .?"  urged  Toker  eagerly. 

Gwendoline,  who  had  been  standing  behind  the 
writing-table,  now  sat  down,  as  she  was  frequently 
wont  to  do,  on  the  arm  of  Toker's  chair.  She  put 
her  arm  around  her  father's  neck  and  said:  "You 
have  called  all  these  prominent  people  here,  have 
n't  you,  in  order  that  their  words,  which  you  permit 
to  be  so  freely  uttered,  may  have  a  wide  audience, 
may  arouse  to  convictions  and  to  deeds;  in  a  word, 
may  make  proselytes  ..." 

"Yes,  that  is  my  intention." 

"Well,  I  believe  it  will  succeed.  I  know  of  one 
enthusiastic  proselyte  already  made  by  Miss  Gar 
lett." 

"You,  my  dear?" 

"Yes,  I.  Let  me  have  a  share  in  your  work;  ini- 
345 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tiate  me!  I  want  to  learn  to  have  the  same  kind  of 
ideas.  I  don't  believe  that  I  lack  the  ability.  Yester 
day,  I  listened  very  attentively  to  the  address  of 
that  'Schwingen'  poet.  (And  between  us,  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  he  is  in  love  with  Miss  Garlett.)  I 
could  not  understand  all  that  he  said,  but  still  I 
understood  enough  to  get  some  new  light ;  the  ques 
tion  is  to  make  men,  that  is  to  say,  their  souls,  fly 
up  into  higher  regions." 

Quite  correct,  thought  Toker;  but  that  their  souls 
may  fly  high,  the  main  thing  is  to  help  their  bodies 
gut  of  wretchedness,  depravity,  hunger,  and  squalor 
—  the  masses  must  be  able  to  free  themselves. 
Aloud  he  said:  "Just  see,  how  my  little  girl  has 
profited  from  the  teachings  of  my  speakers!  Gwen, 
this  gratifies  me,  indeed !  Go  on  with  your  thinking 
and  your  learning." 

"  But  I  should  like  also  to  do  something,  papa,  and 
you  must  tell  me  what!" 

"Just  at  this  moment  I  can't  tell  you  what  you 
will  be  capable  of  doing.  First  let  what  has  been 
sowed  in  your  little  head  during  these  last  two  days 
ripen.  I  have  my  doubts  about  such  sudden  con 
versions.  Nine  chances  out  of  ten,  such  seeds  will 
be  blown  away  again. " 

Gwendoline  sprang  to  her  feet:  "  Have  you  so  little 
faith  in  me?"  she  exclaimed  reproachfully.  "No 
wonder,  though,  for  up  till  now  I  have  been  such  a 
superficial  good-for-nothing  thing." 

"  You  have  been  a  child,  and  that  was  all  that  was 
expected  of  you ;  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
not  remain  such  for  a  while  yet.  Destinies  and 

346 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

tasks  are  unequally  distributed.  Not  all  men  can 
give  themselves  exclusively  to  caring  for  the  weal 
of  others;  there  must  be  some,  also,  who  are  care 
lessly  happy  themselves  —  especially  in  life's  May- 
time." 

The  morning  after  the  supper  with  Helmer, 
Franka  awoke  with  a  dull  headache.  She  had  not 
slept  well,  but  restlessly,  feverishly,  anxiously.  She 
could  not  have  told  what  had  filled  her  mind  with 
worry,  with  anticipation,  with  uncertainty;  for  her 
thoughts  had  led  her  on  rather  confused  meander- 
ings.  Now  as  she  got  up,  she  felt  that  there  was  a 
burden  on  her  mind,  and  she  explained  this  state  of 
things  by  the  deluge  of  impressions  that  had  swept 
over  her,  and  by  the  fact  that  her  resolution  to 
renounce  her  career  as  a  lecturer  had  left  her  facing 
an  uncertain  and  aimless  future. .  .  .  And  yet  at  the 
same  time  this  resolution  was  agreeable  to  her,  for 
in  that  career  she  no  longer  saw  before  her  any  shin 
ing  goal,  any  prize  of  victory  to  satisfy  her  longing. 

Aye,  it  was  longing  which  lurked  in  the  back 
ground  of  her  unrest.  Longing?  For  what?  Franka 
was  no  unsophisticated  child,  and  she  put  the  ques 
tion  to  herself,  without  unconscious  bashfulness: 
"Is  my  hour  come?  Does  Nature  demand  her 
rights?  Do  I  wish  to  live,  to  love?" 

Her  thoughts  turned  on  the  two  young  men  who 
for  several  days  had  filled  her  imagination  and  her 
dreams.  But  neither  of  them  had  declared  himself. 
The  prince  was  perhaps  too  proud,  the  poet  too  mod 
est,  to  want  to  marry  her.  And  to  which  of  them 

347 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

should  she  give  the  preference?  To  this  question 
her  heart  gave  a  whispered  answer,  but  so  softly 
whispered  that  it  was  not  decisive. 

After  her  cold  morning  bath  and  her  hot  morning 
tea,  she  felt  refreshed  and  somewhat  calmer.  She 
put  on  a  simple  street-toilette  and  left  her  room.  She 
felt  the  need  of  getting  out  into  free  nature,  and  she 
bent  her  steps  toward  the  neighboring  wood.  Pur 
posely  she  refrained  from  inviting  Frau  Eleonore 
to  accompany  her,  for  she  wanted  to  be  alone  with 
her  thoughts,  to  take  counsel  of  her  own  heart. 

She  wanted  to  ask  herself  what  now  were  her 
wishes,  her  hopes,  her  purposes.  —  Was  the  resolu 
tion  definitely  fixed  to  retire  from  a  public  career? 
Was  it  justified?  She  had  taken  up  as  her  task 
"To  accomplish  something  great":  was  this  task 
accomplished?  And  was  it  not  presumption  to  sup 
pose  that  she  was  capable  of  accomplishing  any 
thing  "great"?  To  do  that,  one  must  be  great  one's 
self,  and  that  she  certainly  was  not.  During  this 
Rose- Week,  when  she  had  met  with  so  many  bril 
liant  men  and  women  of  genius,  she  had  fallen  very 
low  in  her  own  estimation. 

What  was  she  with  her  rather  superficial  fluency 
in  comparison  with  all  these  mighty  artists,  thinkers, 
poets,  inventors?  Could  she  only  tell  them  all  how 
insignificant  she  felt  in  comparison  with  them !  Just 
as  there  are  attacks  of  pride  and  ambition,  so  Franka 
now  had  an  attack  of  the  deepest  humility,  a  strong 
yearning  for  seclusion :  —  it  was  one  of  those  hours 
when  one  wishes  one's  Ego  dismounted  from  its 
too  prominent  pedestal,  whereon  it  has  been  stand- 

348 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ing  in  far  too  haughty  isolation;  when  one  would 
like  to  compel  it  into  a  kneeling  and  leaning  atti 
tude  of  humbleness  before  a  dearer  "Thou"  .  .  . 

Through  the  grove  breathed  a  delicious  fragrance 
of  warm  resin  and  moist  moss.  Buried  in  her 
thoughts,  Franka  had  been  wandering  for  an  hour 
hither  and  thither  through  the  forest,  and  had 
reached  a  spot  where  a  wooden  seat  was  built  around 
an  ancient  oak  tree.  She  was  rather  tired,  and  so 
sat  down  on  the  seat,  winding  her  arm  around  the 
trunk  and  leaning  her  forehead  on  it:  thus  she  rested. 
The  air  was  hot  and  full  of  the  hum  of  insects. 
An  agreeable  weariness  closed  Franka's  eyelids ;  yet 
she  was  not  asleep,  only  sinking  into  a  comfortable 
half-doze,  comparable  to  the  feeling  that  plants 
may  have  under  the  caress  of  the  sunbeams  or  the 
fanning  of  gentle  breezes.  Her  breath,  the  beating 
of  her  heart  and  the  song  of  the  forest,  the  whisper 
ing  of  the  tree-tops,  melted  together  into  one  har 
monious  rhythm.  It  was  the  undefined,  softly  sooth 
ing  delight  of  mere  existence  —  nothing  more.  And 
yet  with  it  all  was  mingled  something  new,  some 
thing  never  before  experienced  by  her,  something 
that  did  not  seem  to  belong  wholly  to  the  present, 
but  throbbed  as  if  at  the  coming  of  a  future  fulfill 
ment  — 

A  voice  startled  her  out  of  this  twilight  of  the  soul  : 
"Is  that  you,  Signorina  Garlett?" 

It  was  the  great  Italian  tragedienne  who  was  out 
also  for  a  lonely  morning  walk. 

Franka  sprang  up. 

"Don't  move.  I  will  sit  down  with  you  for  a  few 
349 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

minutes.  It  is  very  charming  here,  so  quiet  and 
peaceful.  I  have  disturbed  you.  You  were  deep  in 
dreams  .  .  .  probably  you  were  thinking  about  your 
lover." 

"I  have  no  lover." 

"That  is  incredible  —  only  you  will  not  confide 
in  me.  But  you  might,  carina.  I  am  so  much  older 
than  you  are;  I  have  tasted  so  fully  of  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  life,  and  I  know  well  that  we  women  — 
if  we  are  genuine  women  —  experience  all  our  pleas 
ure  and  all  our  grief  only  through  love  .  .  .  every 
thing  else  is  nothing.  Our  art,  our  beauty,  our  social 
or  domestic  virtues  —  all  that  is  only  the  shell,  is 
only  the  tabernacle ;  the  true  sanctuary  is  our  burn 
ing  and  bleeding  heart. " 

"So  speaks  one  from  the  South, "  replied  Franka. 
"The  rest  of  us  are  colder.  My  heart  truly  —  up  to 
the  present  time  —  has  neither  burned  nor  bled  for 
any  man.  I  do  not  take  into  account  any  passing  little 
acceleration  of  its  throbbing.  My  work,  my  duties, 
have  completely  occupied  me  —  up  to  now  ..." 

"What  has  been  your  special  work?" 

"Making  girls  over  into  thinking  beings." 

"Thinking  —  not  feeling?" 

"The  one  does  not  exclude  the  other.  Men,  too, 
feel  and  love;  at  the  same  time  it  is  their  duty  to 
think  —  not  that  they  always  do  so  —  I  must  agree 
to  that.  You,  great  artist  that  you  are,  who  have 
penetrated  into  the  depths  of  poetry,  would  surely 
be  the  last  person  to  forbid  women  thinking." 

"No,  I  do  not;  but  I  insist  that  they  love.  And 
ultimately,  they  all  obey  —  even  the  women  of  the 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

North.  In  the  Northern  poets  especially  I  have 
found  the  most  fundamental  love-problems.  How 
ever,  madamigella  Franka,  you  just  said  the  words 
'  up  to  now '  in  a  tone  which  makes  me  suspect  that 
perhaps  the  coldness  which  you  boast  of  is  already 
beginning  to  melt." 

Franka's  cheeks  glowed:  "How  you  read  people's 
souls,  maestra!" 

The  other  smiled  sweetly,  and  seized  Franka's 
hand.  "So  it  must  come, "  said  she,  "once  in  every 
life.  But,"  she  added  in  another  tone,  "shan't  we 
return?  Don't  you  hear  distant  thunder?" 

In  fact  a  low  growling  of  thunder  was  heard,  re 
peated  two  or  three  times;  and  the  air  was  sultry. 
Franka  got  up. 

"Very  well,  let  us  go.  We  shall  have  time  enough 
to  get  under  shelter.  You  see,  it  is  the  same  way 
with  my  love  ...  far  and  low  I  seem  to  hear  the  pre 
monition  of  what  may  prove  to  be  a  heart-storm. 
It  has  not  as  yet  arrived,  but  it  is  coming  and  it  will 
be  welcome :  I  shall  not  flee  from  it,  as  we  are  now 
trying  to  escape  from  the  threatening  shower." 

By  this  time  a  few  scattering  drops  were  falling. 
The  two  women  hastened  their  steps.  Suddenly  the 
Italian  actress  said:  — 

"Its  coming  has  been  noticed." 

"The  coming  of  what?  A  quarter  of  an  hour  ago, 
the  sky  was  perfectly  blue." 

" I  am  speaking  of  your  love-affair,  dearest." 

Franka,  surprised,  lifted  her  head.  "What  do 
you  mean?" 

"Well  —  the  handsome  German  prince. " 


CHAPTER  XXV 

SCENES  OF   BEAUTY  AND  OF  LOVE 

THIS  evening  the  exercises  were  devoted  to  the 
concept  Beauty.  They  were  to  begin  with  a  con 
cert;  but  not  a  concert  of  tones,  rather  of  colors  and 
lines  —  charm  for  the  eye,  intoxication  for  the  sense 
of  sight  —  the  delight  of  seeing,  carried  to  ecstasy. 

The  hall  was  only  faintly  lighted.  Toker  and  his 
guests  were  not  as  usual  on  the  platform;  a  white 
screen  surrounded  by  a  golden  frame  filled  the  back 
ground.  Franka  sat  in  the  box  that  she  had  oc 
cupied  on  the  evening  of  Helmer's  address.  But 
this  time  Helmer  was  with  her.  He  had  escorted 
her  into  the  hall,  having  been,  as  usual,  seated  next 
her  at  the  dinner-table.  The  two  had  not  had  much 
opportunity  to  talk  together,  as  some  one  opposite 
had  engaged  Chlodwig  in  an  urgent  conversation, 
and  Franka,  on  her  side,  was  taken  possession  of 
by  Gwendoline  —  who  had  also  accompanied  them 
to  the  box.  In  the  background  sat  Frau  von  Rock- 
haus  and  Malhof. 

Franka  was  scanning  the  hall  with  her  opera- 
glass. 

"Are  you  looking  for  some  one?"  asked  Helmer; 
"he  is  sitting  there  in  the  lower  tier  at  the  right." 

Franka's  glass  followed  the  indicated  direction,  and 
she  caught  sight  of  Victor  Adolph,  who  had  turned 
round  and  was  likewise  searching  the  audience  with 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

his  lorgnette.  The  two  glasses  met  and  the  prince 
bowed.  Franka  answered  the  greeting  and  blushed, 
as  Helmer  saw  only  too  well. 

"I  had  a  long  talk  with  the  prince  to-day,"  he 
said;  "he  is  a  fine  fellow." 

"Who?  —  the  German  king's  son?"  broke  in 
Gwendoline;  "he  pleases  me,  too,  immensely;  and 
if  he  were  not  so  evidently  taken  with  our  Miss  Gar- 
lett,  I  should  have  a  good  flirtation  with  him." 

On  the  signal  for  beginning  the  programme  — 
three  loud  peals  on  a  bell  —  a  tall  figure  of  a  woman 
in  the  costume  of  a  Greek  Muse  stepped  forward  and 
began  to  speak:  — 

Still  through  the  hall  the  golden  bell-tone  vibrates  low! 

List  to  it,  for  you  will  not  hear  it  ringing 

A  second  time  to-day. 

A  simple  word  which  I  have  still  to  say 

Of  prelude  or  of  prologue  —  call  it  as  you  may  — 

And  then  the  silence  show! 

For  voiceless  colors  will  be  together  singing 
And  lines  in  exquisite  harmonies  will  melt  away. 
Nor  flute  nor  drum,  viola,  violin; 
The  instruments  are  called  but  Blue  and  Gray 
And  Red  and  Green  and  Yellow,  bringing  in 
The  rainbow's  soundless  orchestra. 

This  week  for  Lofty  Thinking  held  its  pious  rites; 

Free  spirits  have  stood  forth  to  plead  for  Goodness  and 

for  Duty, 

So  let  us  also  worship  Beauty. 
Let  Wonder  bear  us  in  its  spellbound  flights; 
Since  those  alone  that  have  the  power  to  marvel 
Possess  the  power  of  mounting  to  the  heights. 

The  speaker  retired  and  the  hall  was  completely 
darkened.  All  the  more  brilliantly  gleamed  the  great 

353 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

white  screen  on  the  platform.     A  half-minute  of 
intense  expectation  passed. 

Franka  turned  to  Helmer:  "Do  you  know  what 
is  coming?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Toker  gave  me  an  inkling  of  it.  Pictures 
of  landscapes  more  magnificent  than  were  ever  seen 
before  —  except  in  reality:  nature- framed.  The  im 
pression  is  said  to  be  magical." 

Suddenly,  the  white  screen  was  transformed  into 
a  view  of  a  primitive  tropical  forest  —  a  remark 
ably  picturesque  piece:  in  the  foreground,  at  the 
right  and  at  the  left,  two  gigantic  gnarly  trees,  whose 
branches  arched  upward  until  they  met,  forming  a 
kind  of  triumphal  gateway;  on  the  ground  and  to 
ward  the  back  a  luxuriant  growth  of  unknown  plants 
and  flowers. 

"That  reminds  me  of  Ernst  Haeckel's  marvelous 
travel  pictures,"  remarked  Helmer. 

It  was  evidently  photographed  from  nature  and 
in  the  most  brilliant  colors.  Polychrome  photo 
graphy  had,  to  be  sure,  been  invented  some  years 
before,  but  here,  for  the  first  time,  perfect  fidelity 
to  nature  had  been  attained:  not  only  the  succulent 
green  of  the  foliage,  and  the  velvet  brilliancy  of  the 
moss,  but  something  like  real  light,  such  as  prevails 
in  the  primeval  forest,  streaming  with  emerald  tints 
through  the  tree-tops  and  flinging  bronze  reflections 
on  the  brown  trunks.  Dark  and  pale  lilac  blossoms 
glowed  in  the  maze  of  vines,  resting  here  and  there 
in  dense  masses  among  the  branches ;  here  and  there 
hanging  down  like  the  sprays  of  weeping  willows; 
then  again,  springing  from  the  soil,  tall-stemmed, 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

crimson-red  flowers,  with  broad,  wonderfully  serrated 
calyxes  —  a  flora  quite  unknown  in  our  temperate 
zone. 

The  prologue  had  not  promised  too  much:  no 
painter  could  depict  such  a  scene:  it  was  nature  it 
self.  To  near-sighted  eyes,  the  picture  may  have 
presented  a  more  or  less  confused  maze  of  colors ;  but 
through  the  opera-glass  every  leaf  and  every  stalk 
could  be  seen  in  its  sharp  outlines,  and  if  one  looked 
with  a  high-powered  glass  one  might  have  detected 
the  gauzy  wings  of  some  brilliant-colored  butterfly 
sitting  motionless  on  some  flower. 

Franka  drew  a  deep  breath  and  murmured:  "It 
is  bewitching." 

"Yes,  the  world  grows  richer  every  day,"  said 
Helmer ;  "but  look,  there  comes  something  still  more 
amazing." 

Through  the  hall  swept  a  subdued  murmur  of  as 
tonishment.  Franka  pointed  her  glass  to  the  plat 
form  again:  she  expected  to  see  another,  perhaps  a 
still  more  beautiful  picture,  but  it  was  the  same. 
And  yet  different.  .  .  .  Was  it  not  alive?  Did  n't  the 
vines  sway?  Did  n't  the  light  dance  on  the  mossy 
ground?  —  Yes  —  and  now  a  small  bird  flew  from 
one  tree  to  another  —  a  gayly  feathered  little  bird 
gleaming  in  metallic  colors.  For  a  minute  or  two 
the  fixed  photograph  had  appeared  in  the  frame,  and 
now  the  kinematographic  reproduction  of  the  same 
bit  of  nature  was  substituted  for  it.  To  be  sure, 
living  pictures  were  no  longer  a  new  marvel,  but  the 
sudden  animation  of  the  apparent  painting  —  that 
was  the  surprising  effect;  and  the  new  victory  was 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

that  kinematography  in  colors  had  been  added  to 
the  achievements  of  this  art.  For  long  ages  men  had 
been  seeking  to  imitate,  to  preserve  the  life  around 
them  —  and  now,  what  a  long  distance  between 
the  first  rude  attempts  at  delineating  the  forms  of 
animals  or  the  bones  of  animals,  to  the  living  picture 
accurate  in  color  and  full  of  motion ! 

The  tropic  landscape  was  followed  by  one  from 
the  Far  North :  the  luxuriance  of  warmth  by  the 
splendor  of  the  cold :  a  polar-sea  region  in  the  morn 
ing  light.  The  picture  must  have  been  taken  on 
board  of  a  ship,  a  ship  surrounded  by  glittering  ice 
bergs.  Here  also  there  was  motion;  the  spaces  of 
open  sea  were  alive  with  dancing  waves;  sea-gulls 
swept  by ;  the  clouds  that  moved  along  the  horizon 
changed  their  form  and  color.  A  third  picture  por 
trayed  a  bit  of  the  sea-depths.  Had  a  diver  carried 
his  kinematographic  apparatus  down  with  him,  or 
was  the  picture  taken  from  an  aquarium?  The  ques 
tion  could  not  be  decided;  what  seemed  to  fill  the 
frame  was  azure  water  with  coral  formations  on  the 
bottom,  and  populated  with  marvelous  creatures. 
Opaque  crustaceans  tinier  than  grains  of  sand  flew 
this  way  and  that  quicker  than  a  flash;  gelatinous 
creatures  were  seen  going  about  in  all  directions 
by  means  of  invisible  organs ;  others  proceeded  by 
contracting  their  feet;  diminutive  medusae  moved 
slowly  about,  carrying  their  umbrellas;  little  sagit 
tate  animalcules  dashed  in  agitated  flight  like  tor 
pedoes;  anemones  hung  there,  like  chandeliers; 
shadow-like,  transparent  creatures,  iridescent,  phos 
phorescent  creatures  —  beauty,  beauty  everywhere! 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

After  a  brief  pause,  what  followed  was  the  actual 
Color  Symphony  promised  in  the  prologue  —  a  con 
cert  for  the  eyes.  The  eyes  alone  should  enjoy  it  and 
wholly  without  accessories  of  landscape  and  life. 
The  framework  disappeared ;  the  whole  platform  was 
swallowed  up  in  darkness  for  a  time,  and  then  sud 
denly  flamed  up  in  a  crashing  chord  of  ruby-red, 
topaz-yellow,  and  sapphire-blue.  Then  the  colors 
began  to  move  rhythmically  and  dispose  themselves 
into  figures ;  they  obliterated  one  another  and  formed 
new  combinations  of  ever  new  nuances;  just  as  a 
solo  voice  rising  above  an  orchestral  accompaniment, 
now  hovers  an  emerald-green  line  in  the  foreground 
and  depicts  —  adagio  —  a  vibrant  arabesque  like  a 
melody,  while  the  accompanying  colors  diminish  to 
a  dull  silver-gray. 

A  second  line,  of  the  tenderest  rose,  now  curls 
round  the  green,  as  if  it  were  a  second  solo  voice. 
Now  the  duet  is  swallowed  up  by  a  violet  glow  and 
again  begins  a  genuine  ensemble  of  all  the  instru 
ments:  violin-tones  from  the  golden  yellow,  flute- 
tones  from  the  celestial  blue,  a  trumpet-blast  from 
the  red,  a  drum-tap  from  the  brown.  In  ever  new 
forms  and  interchanging  tempos  the  colors  stream 
together  and  apart.  Here  they  cluster  into  balls; 
there  they  tumble  in  waterfalls  or  hover  in  flakes 
like  soft-falling  snow.  The  most  variegated  lights 
and  reflections  and  beams  and  flame-gleams  and 
mother-of-pearl  tints  make  up  the  ensemble.  The 
color  symphony  contained  also  a  scherzo  wherein 
the  melodious  arabesques  are  transformed  into  a 
whirl  of  grotesque  hopping  figures.  The  finale  intro- 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

duces  a  prestissimo  with  the  rapidity  of  a  tornado, 
of  a  blizzard,  which  finally  dies  down  again  into 
calm  serenity.  And  ever  more  and  more  pallid  grow 
the  colors,  ever  duller  the  lights,  with  a  decrescendo 
dying  gradually  into  the  most  delicate  pianissimo, 
until  at  last  the  stage  again  lies  in  absolute  dark 
ness.  And  then  against  the  darkness,  shining  bril 
liant  red,  appeared,  a  hundred-fold  in  size,  the  crest 
of  the  house,  the  symbol  of  beauty:  a  rose  in  full 
bloom. 

After  the  intermission  one  of  Toker's  famous 
guests,  the  German  physicist,  delivered  a  brief  ad 
dress.  He  also  produced  a  variation  on  the  theme  of 
the  evening.  He  proved,  even  more  clearly  than  the 
animated  pictures  could  do,  the  manifold  and  hidden 
beauties  of  nature.  He  revealed  the  wonder-pictures 
that  are  discovered  by  the  microscope  to  our  aston 
ished  senses;  the  splendor  of  form  of  the  Radio- 
laria,  the  symmetry  of  the  thousand-faceted  eyes  of 
insects;  the  delicate  traceries  of  mould  and  mosses 
invisible  to  the  naked  eye;  the  rich  life  in  a  drop  of 
stagnant  water  —  beauty  everywhere. 

But  in  order  that  the  visible  world  may  resolve 
into  beauty,  we  must  learn  two  things:  to  see  and 
to  enjoy.  Could  there  possibly  be  splendor  of  color 
and  grace  of  contour  if  all  living  beings  were  blind  ? 
And  could  what  we  see  ever  be  felt  as  "beautiful" 
if  the  spectator  remained  without  enjoyment?  The 
evolution  of  organisms  required  a  long  time  until 
the  eye  was  formed;  and  a  second  long  period 
stretched  between  the  use  of  an  organ  of  sense  and 
the  enjoyment  that  grew  out  of  the  use  of  it.  How 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

long  it  took  for  man  to  learn  to  enjoy  the  beauties 
of  nature!  In  all  ancient  literatures  no  description 
of  nature  is  to  be  found  in  tones  of  admiration.  The 
ancient  Greeks  found  delight  in  the  grace  of  human 
bodies,  in  the  noble  lines  of  artistic  buildings;  but 
in  their  songs  there  is  no  trace  of  enthusiasm  over 
a  mountain  landscape,  or  a  seashore.  Among  our 
peasantry,  living  in  the  midst  of  the  most  magnifi 
cent  nature,  the  majority  are  unmoved  by  beauty 
of  scenery.  The  formation  of  the  organs  of  sense 
must  be  followed  by  the  exercise  and  the  refining 
of  the  corresponding  organs  of  the  soul.  Then  only 
the  soul  may  be  raised  to  the  inspiring  mood  which 
is  called  the  enjoyment  of  beauty. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  physicist's  address, 
Toker  entered  Franka's  box.  "To-night,  Miss  Gar- 
lett,  you  must  once  more  come  into  our  circle,  and 
you  also,  Mr.  Helmer.  This  period  of  talk  between 
ten  o'clock  and  midnight  is  certainly  the  best  and 
most  productive  recreation  after  the  labors  of  the 
day.  And  you,  Gwen,  have  you  been  happy  in 
spending  the  whole  evening  in  the  company  of  your 
idol?  —  For  you  must  know,  Miss  Garlett,  that  my 
daughter  has  conceived  the  most  violent  admiration 
for  you  —  which  I  can  perfectly  understand." 

A  little  later  the  Rose-Knighthood  had  gathered 
in  Toker's  salons.  In  spite  of  the  brevity  of  their 
acquaintance,  many  warm  friendships  had  sprung 
up  among  the  famous  guests  of  the  house.  And, 
indeed,  there  was  no  lack  of  interesting  material  for 
intercourse.  The  atmosphere  was  alive  with  ideas 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

suggested  by  the  preceding  addresses  and  perform 
ances.  "This  is  the  week  of  wide  perspectives," 
one  of  the  visitors  pertinently  remarked  on  one  oc 
casion. 

Frequently  distinguished  personages  invited  by 
Toker  from  outside  joined  the  house-company.  This 
evening  he  had  invited  Prince  Victor  Adolph,  among 
others,  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  evening  in  the  Rose- 
Palace,  an  invitation  which  the  young  man  had 
accepted  with  alacrity  in  spite  of  Orell's  comment 
that  it  was  a  very  mixed  society:  "Eccentric  people. 
A  revolutionary  flavor.  No  milieu  for  Your  Royal 
Highness." 

The  night  was  very  warm.  When  Prince  Victor 
Adolph  entered  the  suite  of  salons,  many  of  the 
guests  had  taken  refuge  on  the  terrace  to  seek  its 
refreshing  coolness.  Franka,  for  whom  the  prince 
was  looking,  had  also  disappeared  from  the  salon. 
Toker  stopped  him  as  he  was  about  to  follow  her. 

"Fine,  that  you  came,  Your  Highness.  I  should 
like  to  tell  you  something  important." 

"Me?"   His  eyes  wandered  searchingly. 

"Yes,  you.  There  are  things  which  will  interest 
you  and  which  you  might  be  willing  to  take  hold  of 
and  help.  I  regard  you  as  a  young  man  of  high 
thoughts  and  ideals,"  —  the  prince  made  a  gesture 
of  surprise,  —  "perhaps  lam  speaking  too  uncere 
moniously?" 

"  Not  that  —  but  what  can  you  know  about  my 
mode  of  thought,  Mr.  Toker?" 

"What  all  the  world  knows.  You  are  recognized 
as  an  unusual  type.  You  are  interested  in  questions, 

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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

a  knowledge  of  which  as  a  general  rule  does  not 
reach  your  circles.  The  weal  and  woe  of  the  poorer 
classes  seem  to  you  important  questions.  You  are 
certainly  an  opponent  of  any  war,  instigated  from 
frivolous  motives.  .  .  .  Let  me  tell  you  what  is  in 
preparation.  In  your  position,  as  the  son  of  a  power 
ful  ruler,  you  might  perhaps  exert  an  influence  which 
would  avert  a  threatening  misfortune." 

"You  excite  my  curiosity." 

"It  is  as  yet  a  very  imperfect  world  in  which  in 
dividuals  have  the  opportunity  to  bring  about  na 
tional  conflicts  from  personal  ambition,  and  where 
the  good  will  of  individuals  is  required  to  forfend 
such  evils,  instead  of  security  being  the  normal, 
natural  basis  of  the  intercourse  of  nations;  where 
one  must  lay  secret  plans  to  save  the  life  of  one's 
fellow-men!" 

"  I  am  ready  to  enter  into  such  a  plot,  Mr.  Toker. 
Speak!" 

"Thanks,  but  you  came  here  this  evening  to  enjoy 
the  society  of  my  guests,  and  what  I  have  to  say  is 
not  so  quickly  explained.  Could  you  come  to-mor 
row  to  my  study?  I  should  like  to  give  you  a  glance 
at  some  of  my  correspondence  which  has  induced  me 
to  venture  approaching  you." 

"Very  gladly,  Mr.  Toker.  Would  eleven  o'clock 
suit  you?" 

"Perfectly.  And  now  I  will  not  detain  you  any 
longer." 

Victor  Adolph  took  advantage  of  this  permission 
to  look  for  Franka.  He  found  her  on  the  terrace, 
sitting  with  only  Gwendoline  for  companion,  at  some 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

distance  from  the  others.  After  greeting  the  daugh 
ter  of  the  house,  he  turned  to  Franka. 

"  I  did  not  come  to  see  you  in  your  loge  this  even 
ing,  gnadiges  Fraulein,  because  I  knew  that  I  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  finding  you  here." 

Gwendoline,  in  accordance  with  the  proverb  which 
she  knew  so  well,  "Two  is  company,  three  is  none," 
found  a  pretext  for  going  away.  Victor  Adolph  sat 
down  on  the  seat  which  she  had  vacated.  Franka 
was  ill  at  ease:  she  had  a  suspicion  that  the  prince 
was  not  going  to  talk  about  indifferent  things.  He 
was  silent  for  a  while.  That  made  her  still  more 
uncomfortable,  and  in  order  to  relieve  the  situation 
she  began  to  speak :  — 

"How  were  you  pleased  with  the  silent  con 
cert?" 

"Concert?   What  concert?"  he  asked  absently. 

"The  color  symphony." 

"I  was  not  looking  at  the  platform,  but  into  an 
almost  perfectly  dark  box  in  which  I  still  could  make 
out  the  outline  of  a  beloved  form." 

Now  Franka  remained  silent.  What  could  she 
answer  to  that? 

After  a  rather  long  pause  he  remarked:  "What  a 
lovely  evening!" 

"Marvelously  beautiful,"  replied  Franka.  The 
conversation  could  continue  on  this  subject.  And 
she  added:  "So  mild,  so  fragrant,  so  still." 

"Still?  Why,  no  ...  don't  you  hear  the  chirping 
of  insects  and  the  wavelets  breaking  on  the  shore? 
The  night  is  breathing." 

"As  if  in  peaceful  slumber." 
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WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"No,  it  is  not  asleep  —  just  see,  how  its  hundred 
thousand  open  eyes  are  sparkling." 

She  looked  up  at  the  starry  sky.  Indeed,  there 
shone  a  myriad  of  glittering  eyes.  As  Franka  sat 
there,  bathed  ia  the  soft  moonlight,  with  her  head 
upturned,  her  large  dark  eyes  directed  to  the  firma 
ment,  her  delicate  features  as  it  were  illuminated 
with  reverence,  she  seemed  more  exquisitely  beau 
tiful  than  ever. 

"You  are  right.  .  .  .  Every  instant  one  or  another 
of  the  stars  seems  to  say,  'I  am.'  That  is  after  all 
the  deepest  of  mysteries,  that  unfathomable  meaning 
of  the  verb  'to  be.'" 

"Franka,  I  love  you!" 

The  words  came  so  abruptly  that  Franka  felt  a 
violent  shock.  It  fell  upon  her  like  a  burning  bolt. 
She  drew  herself  up  and  pushed  back  her  chair. 
Victor  Adolph  was  himself  startled  at  his  own  words; 
he  had  not  anticipated  making  so  sudden  a  declara 
tion  of  his  love.  Here  once  more  were  those  primi 
tive  incitements  to  passion  and  love :  —  the  summer 
night,  the  perfume  of  flowers,  the  moonlight .  .  . 
and  that  bewitching  beauty! 

Beauty  had  been  the  topic  of  the  whole  evening: 
the  magic  of  the  tropics  and  of  the  Arctic  sea,  of 
Radiolaria  and  anemones,  but  there  had  not  been 
a  word  said  about  the  most  potent  of  all  the  powers 
of  beauty  —  in  a  lovely  young  woman's  face.  What 
were  all  the  lilies  and  birds  of  paradise,  what  were 
all  the  dancing  colors  and  lights,  in  comparison  to 
such  a  pair  of  beaming  eyes,  from  which  gleamed  a 
human  soul? 

363 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

A  short  pause  ensued,  duringVhich  both  felt  their 
hearts  beat  faster.  Then  Victor  Adolph  began  to 
speak  in  a  low  tone :  — 

"You  must  not  be  angry,  Fraulein  Garlett  .  .  . 
the  audacious  words  came  almost  involuntarily  out 
of  my  mouth.  Honestly,  I,  myself,  as  I  said  them 
for  the  first  time,  have  realized  what  deep  feelings 
toward  you  I  cherish.  Yes,  I  love  you,  sincerely  and 
passionately.  I  believe  you  might  crown  my  hap 
piness  with  the  richest  gift  one  could  conceive  if 
only  you  would  return  my  love.  You  must  not  for 
an  instant  misunderstand  me  —  I  offer  you  my 
hand.  Do  not  answer  now  —  I  desire  no  hasty  an 
swer.  You  must  first  weigh  all  things  in  the  balance 
—  for  there  would  be  difficulties,  reserves  ...  I  am 
not  a  free  and  independent  man,  and  perhaps  great 
responsibilities  will  be  put  upon  me  ..." 

Franka  stood  up:  "You  asked  me  not  to  answer 
and  I  beg  you,  my  prince,  my  dear  prince, "  —  her 
voice  trembled  with  deep  emotion,  —  "do  not  say 
anything  more.  ...  I  am  going  into  the  salon  now. " 

She  took  a  few  steps  and  was  soon  surrounded 
by  a  number  of  persons.  The  tevte-a-t£te  was  at  an 
end.  The  prince,  bowing  low,  went  off  in  another 
direction.  Franka  took  no  further  part  in  the  social 
festivities  but  fled  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

CLOUDS  ON  THE  HORIZON 

IN  the  mean  time,  John  Toker  and  Helmer  were 
chatting  in  the  salon.  The  two  men  were  sitting  in 
the  embrasure  of  one  of  the  windows  behind  a  screen 
of  tall,  big-leafed  plants,  and  were  unseen  and  un 
disturbed. 

"This  would  seem  an  admirable  place  for  a  pair 
to  flirt  in,"  remarked  Toker,  as  he  led  his  guest  to 
it;  "but  this  privacy  will  also  suit  us.  I  have  as 
yet  had  no  good  opportunity  to  thank  you  for  your 
address;  moreover,  this  afternoon,  I  have  read  the 
translation  of  it,  and  so  only  now  realize  how  com 
pletely  our  ideas  and  aims  are  in  agreement.  You 
say  quite  rightly,  mankind  has  reached  the  turning 
of  the  ways.  Either  —  Or.  It  truly  cannot  continue 
as  it  is.  Therefore,  we  must  put  forth  all  our  ener 
gies,  even  if  our  energies  are  of  no  great  magnitude. 
And  I  have  a  high  opinion  of  the  power  of  the  pen ; 
it  can  charm  in  a  playful  way;  but  it  can  also  be  a 
very  mighty  instrument  of  harm  and  of  help. " 

"What  you  say,  Mr.  Toker,  reminds  me  of  a  con 
versation  which  I  had  not  long  ago  with  a  fellow- 
countryman,  a  boyhood  friend  of  mine.  He  asked 
me  how  I  could  devote  my  art,  my  talent  to  the 
service  of  politics  and  such  inartistic  objects.  I 
answered,  'Because  there  is  a  fire,  my  dear  friend. 
And  if  —  in  such  a  case  —  one  holds  in  one's  hands 

365 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

a  brimming  pitcher,  one  uses  it  to  quench  the  flames 
and  not  to  water  flowers.' " 

"Quite  right;  so  let  us  put  out  the  fire.  News 
which  has  reached  me  to-day  makes  me  fear  that 
there  is  going  to  be  a  great  disturbance.  The  work 
which  we  are  doing  here  —  the  exerting  of  influence 
on  thinking  men  —  proceeds  —  quite  too  slowly,  I 
am  sorry  to  say  —  in  spite  of  all  6ur  apparatus  for 
wide  publicity." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Helmer;  "it  is  a  dribbling,  in 
stead  of  a  flood.  Before  minds  gradually  change, 
the  avalanche  of  collected  stupidity  comes  rolling 
down  and  buries  the  whole  region.  Here  I  am  speak 
ing  in  metaphors  again.  ...  I  keep  detecting  myself 
in  this  habit.  Prince  Victor  Adolph  thought  that 
pardonable  in  a  poet.  Now,  that  I  think  of  it:  this 
prince  —  in  spite  of  his  position  —  is  on  our  side 
in  all  his  inclinations,  and  so  —  precisely  because  of 
his  position  —  he  might  successfully  help  us  in  the 
endeavor  to  put  out  the  fire. " 

"I  had  the  very  same  idea.  You  know  his  repu 
tation?" 

"More  than  that:  I  know  his  inclinations."  And 
Helmer  related  the  interview  which  he  had  held 
that  very  same  day  with  the  prince. 

"Well,  he  seems  to  be  a  splendid  young  man," 
said  Toker.  "To-morrow,  at  eleven  o'clock,  he  is 
coming  to  see  me,  in  order  to  plan  a  campaign.  The 
rescue,  the  saving  of  the  lives  of  a  hundred  thousand 
people  —  that  is  to  be  the  object  of  our  conspiracy. 
He  just  told  me  ..." 

"Just  told  you?  Is  he  here?" 
366 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

t 

"Yes,  he  came  at  my  invitation.  At  this  instant 
he  is  on  the  terrace,  as  my  daughter  told  me,  and 
is  sitting  in  the  moonlight  very  sentimentally  talk 
ing  with  Miss  Garlett." 

Helmer  made  a  sudden  motion  and  suppressed  a 
groan.  This  did  not  escape  the  older  man's  atten 
tion. 

"Oh,  Herr  Helmer,  is  that  disagreeable  to  you? 
Perhaps  you  are  somewhat  sentimentally  inclined 
to  your  pretty  table-companion  and  fellow-country 
woman  yourself?  .  .  .  That  would  be  quite  natural. 
Don't  shake  your  head  .  .  .  young  men  are  quite 
properly  in  love;  I  like  to  see  it.  I  will  not  detain 
you  ...  go  out  on  the  terrace  and  interrupt  the 
flirtation,  if  you  object  to  it.  It  would  be  much 
better  for  the  young  lady  if  she  should  incline  her 
heart  to  you  .  .  .  ' 

"Good  Heavens!  I  could  not  enter  into  competi 
tion  with  the  prince  ...  if  things  are  actually  as  you 
seem  to  think. " 

"Why  not?   'Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady.'" 

"You  yourself,  Mr.  Toker,  set  me  very  different 
tasks  from  that  of  winning  a  maiden's  heart." 

"Hold  on!  Hold  on!  ...  I  am  no  fanatic,  no 
man  of  one  idea.;  To  work  for  a  great  public  object 
does  not  require  that  a  man  should  give  himself 
body  and  soul  to  this  affair.  One  must  not  neglect 
one's  duties  toward  one's  own  happiness.  When 
one  has  the  foundation  of  domestic  content,  of  cheer 
ful  peace  of  mind,  one  can  work  much  more  effec 
tively  for  a  great  cause.  It  gives  harmony  and  bal 
ance.  And  then,  energy  grows  out  of  it  as  a  tree 

367 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

springs  out  of  a  rich  soil  —  you  see,  I  can  also  speak 
in  figures.  Well,  good-bye  for  now.  I  will  go  around 
among  my  guests  for  a  little  while  longer.  To-mor 
row  we  will  take  up  our  plot  again. " 

Helmer  hastened  out  on  the  terrace:  not  as  Mr. 
Toker  had  advised,  to  break  up  the  flirtation,  but 
to  observe  it.  Yet  in  spite  of  his  zeal  to  find  that 
which  would  cause  him  misery  —  he  found  nothing : 
the  couple  was  not  to  be  seen  on  the  terrace. 

Franka  had  been  for  some  time  in  her  room.  She 
did  not  turn  on  the  light,  but  went  out  on  the  bal 
cony  and  threw  herself  into  her  rocking-chair.  She 
wanted  to  think  over  what  had  occurred  in  the  very 
same  atmosphere  in  which  it  had  occurred  —  in  the 
fragrant  moonlit,  summer  night. 

She  drew  her  lace  shawl  closer  over  her  shoulders 
and  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  rocking  slowly  to  and 
fro.  She  recalled  the  words  which  had  so  over 
whelmed  her  with  amazement.  Again  she  seemed 
to  hear  distinctly  the  accent  in  which  "Franka,  I 
love  you"  had  been  spoken  and  the  still  more  mo 
mentous  "You  must  not  for  an  instant  misunder 
stand  me:  I  offer  you  my  hand."  My  hand  —  my 
hand  .  .  .  like  a  refrain  which  runs  in  one's  head 
these  words  sang  themselves  to  her,  and  here  again 
were  the  same  warm  breath  of  the  night,  the  same 
penetrating  perfume  of  violets  which  emanated 
from  the  already  half-faded  bouquet  that  she  wore 
on  her  bosom.  He  was  in  no  hurry  for  a  reply  —  so 
much  the  better!  Had  she  given  either  a  hasty 
"  Yes  "  or  a  hasty  "  No, "  perhaps  she  might  be  even 

368 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

now  regretting  it.  So  the  decision  was  postponed: 
it  was  left  to  her  free  and  deliberate  choice,  whether 
she  should  seize  this  marvelous  Future,  big  with 
portentous  eventualities,  or  reject  it.  ...  "Diffi 
culties,  reserves. "...  Her  pride  revolted  .  .  .  why 
had  she  not  said  "No"  on  the  spot?  But  is  it  not 
true  —  a  king's  son:  such  a  step  is  not  taken  so 
easily.  And  it  would  involve  sacrifices,  renuncia 
tions,  struggles.  .  .  . 

That  very  morning  she  had  been  anticipating 
with  some  longing  a  thunderstorm  of  love  —  to 
tell  the  truth,  the  image  of  another  lover  had  arisen 
in  her  mind;  now  in  truth  such  a  storm  had  burst 
upon  her,  but  it  had  not  brought  any  relief  to  her 
mental  strain.  In  the  dazzling  lightning-stroke  of 
that  declaration  of  love  by  the  one,  the  image  of  the 
other  had  grown  somewhat  pale,  but  was  not  wholly 
obliterated.  Evidently  this  other  did  not  love  her. 
He  had  constantly  shown  himself  active  in  promot 
ing  the  interests  of  Victor  Adolph;  that  very  even 
ing  in  the  hall  .  .  . 

"Are  you  there,  Franka?"  It  was  Frau  von 
Rockhaus.  She  had  turned  on  the  light  in  the  room 
and  was  now  standing  in  the  balcony  door.  "I  did 
not  see  you  any  longer  downstairs  and  supposed  that 
you  had  gone  to  bed. .  . .  Why  did  n't  you  call  me?" 

"I  knew  that  you  would  soon  be  following.  It  is 
pretty  late." 

"That  was  a  very  pronounced  wooing  this  even 
ing,"  observed  Frau  Eleonore.  "Did  he  propose 
at  last?" 

"Who?" 

369 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Who!  The  prince,  of  course!" 

"You  are  inquisitive,  dear  Eleonore.  Let  us  go 
to  bed.  I  am  sleepy.  Good-night." 

She  rang  for  her  maid  and  went  to  her  bedroom. 
But  she  found  no  rest. 

Victor  Adolph  also  spent  a  restless  night.  During 
the  past  forty-eight  hours  events  and  impressions 
had  been  overwhelmingly  sweeping  in  upon  him. 
That  address  of  Helmer's,  opening  new  perspectives 
before  his  soul;  the  tidings  that  perhaps  a  throne 
would  be  offered  him;  that  conspiracy  for  the  ad 
vantage  of  the  contemporary  world,  which  John 
Toker  wanted  to  conduct  with  his  assistance;  and 
finally  this  summer  night's  dream  which  had  ended 
with  such  a  sudden  and  mighty  flaming  up  of  pas 
sion  that  he  had  surrendered  to  it  for  all  time.  . . . 

The  tormenting  part  of  the  situation  was  that  he 
saw  himself  facing  not  merely  one,  but  several  fate 
ful  questions.  When  he  wanted  to  devote  himself 
to  thoughts  of  his  beloved  arose  the  vision  of  the 
beckoning  throne,  and  when  he  attempted  to  bal 
ance  the  chances  and  the  obligations  which  such  a 
change  of  conditions  would  bring  with  it,  then  arose 
the  image  of  the  woman  whom  he  loved  —  to  whom 
he  had  offered  his  hand.  And  what  difficulties 
heaped  themselves  up  before  him!  What  battles 
there  would  be !  Had  not  this  step  been  indiscreet? 
Aye,  that  it  had;  but  is  passion  ever  discreet? 

When  the  prince,  agreeably  to  his  promise, 
reached  Toker's  study  the  next  morning,  Toker  had 

370 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

already  gone  through  his  mail.  He  had  found  vari 
ous  additional  particulars  which  tended  more  than 
ever  to  arouse  his  fears  regarding  the  threatened 
dangers.  He  went  to  meet  the  exalted  visitor. 

"You  are  very  punctual,  Prince." 

Newspapers  and  letters  were  arranged  on  a  round 
center-table. 

"Please,  let  us  sit  down  without  delay;  I  have 
put  in  order  the  various  papers  which  might  serve 
to  show  my  motives  for  the  action  I  have  in  mind. " 

"I  have  faith  in  your  action,  Mr.  Toker,  without 
your  proving  motives,"tsaid  the  prince,  as  he  took 
his  place  at  the  table. 

Toker  followed  his  example  and  put  a  few  Eng 
lish,  French,  and  German  newspapers  before  him. 
"  Please  read  first  of  all  the  passages  marked  in  blue 
pencil." 

"Those  are  sheer  alarmist  prognostications," 
remarked  the  prince,  after  he  had  glanced  through 
the  designated  passages.  " '  War-in-sight '  news. 
And  actually  maps  —  already  —  of  the  probable 
seat  of  war!" 

"And  now  read  the  passages  marked  in  red." 

"Bad  news  again :  bomb-throwing  .  .  .  strikes  .  .  . 
conspiracy  .  .  .  lynchings  .  .  .  hunger-revolts  .  .  . 
riots  ..." 

"In  other  words,  we  are  facing  a  war  on  the  one 
hand  and  a  revolution  on  the  other." 

"Excuse  me,  Mr.  Toker,  but  perhaps  you  take 
the  matter  too  tragically, "  said  the  prince,  pushing 
the  papers  to  one  side.  "The  rumors  of  wars  are 
apparently  false  or  are  merely  incitements  —  we 

371 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

have  been  reading  the  like  for  many  years  regularly 
in  the  papers  and  yet  nothing  comes  of  them.  These 
revolutionary  attacks  do  happen  here  and  there  and 
are  always  speedily  suppressed:  order  is  immedi 
ately  restored." 

"Yes,  yes,  it  has  been  smouldering  now  for  a 
number  of  years.  But  we  must  not  wait  until  the 
flames  break  out ;  it  is  time  for  us  to  trample  out  the 
sparks."  Toker  spoke  these  last  words  in  a  wrathful 
tone.  "  Patience  ceases  to  be  a  virtue, "  he  went  on 
to  say,  "when  it  consists  in  allowing  misfortune  to 
approach;  then  it  should  be  called  simply  uncon 
cern.  Now  read  this  also."  He  handed  the  prince 
some  letters  and  telegrams  for  him  to  glance  over. 
"Those  are  private  communications  from  parties 
in  a  position  to  be  well  informed.  They  show  much 
more  clearly  than  the  news  published  in  the  papers 
that  the  evil  so  much  talked  about  is  ready  to  ap 
pear.  " 

The  prince  read  the  letters  and  dispatches  care 
fully.  "In  truth,"  was  his  comment,  "things  do 
look  a  bit  threatening.  What  do  you  propose,  Mr. 
Toker,  in  order  to  avert  the  danger?  And  do  you 
think  there  is  still  time  enough?" 

"The  term  'too  late'  should  never  be  allowed 
when  the  question  concerns  a  work  of  help  or  rescue. 
As  you  yourself  just  remarked,  for  a  number  of 
years  conflicts  have  cropped  up  in  the  most  varied 
places;  panics  have  been  precipitated;  people  have 
been  getting  ready  for  the  conflict;  the  catastrophe 
has  been  generally  expected,  and  then  nothing  has 
come  of  it.  In  early  times  it  was  not  so.  When  the 

372 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

well-known  black  speck  appeared  on  the  political 
horizon,  one  could  expect  a  storm  with  certainty. 
Now  new  forces  have  entered  into  the  world, 
which  have  succeeded  in  driving  away  the  clouds. 
The  peaceable  intentions  of  the  rulers  have  been 
strengthened ;  the  pugnacity  of  the  nations  has  been 
curbed  —  the  world  is  gradually  changing.  And 
perhaps  these  perils  also  "  —  he  pointed  to  the  news 
papers  and  letters — "will  be  dissipated  and  there  will 
be  time  to  act.  Only  we  must  not  delay.  If  we  allow 
things  to  go  on  unchecked,  the  crash  must  come. " 

"Well,  what  is  to  be  done?  And  what  could  /  do 
to  help?  A  little  princelet  like  me  —  I  need  not  tell 
you  —  has  no  power  and  no  liberty.  Even  at  this 
minute,  while  I  am  engaging  in  this  conspiracy  with 
you  behind  the  back  of  my  honorary  jailer,  General 
Orell,  I  am  deeply  involving  myself  in  disgrace!" 

Toker  smiled.  "This  is  not  your  first  offense,  as 
I  have  reason  to  suspect.  Your  attendance  at  popu 
lar  meetings  is  well  known;  your  predilection  for 
the  reading  of  sociological  books,  not  receivable  at 
court,  is  well  known.  But  for  the  very  reason  that 
you  have  a  knowledge  of  the  problems  of  the  day 
and  an  open  mind,  I  have  turned  to  you.  So,  then, 
listen  —  this  is  the  thing:  —  A  new  Hague  Confer 
ence  is  about  to  be  opened  ..." 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  Victor  Adolph,  "these 
conferences  have  so  far  failed  to  bring  about  the 
change  expected  of  them. " 

"Still,  they  have  brought  something  significant, 
new,  and  great  into  the  world  —  the  generality  of 
the  people  certainly  know  very  little  about  them. 

373 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

They  have  not  attained  their  object  for  the  reason 
that  they  have  been  diverted  from  that  object  by 
their  own  members :  —  an  article  was  smuggled  into 
the  programme  that  had  no  business  to  be  there  — 
regulation  of  war:  —  for  a  large  proportion  of  the 
delegates  consisted  either  of  soldiers  or  adherents 
of  sovereignty.  These  men  were  assiduous  in  keep 
ing  the  old  principles  safe  from  the  danger  with 
which  they  were  threatened  by  the  conference  as 
originally  proposed  —  that  is,  from  compulsory  ar 
bitration  and  limitation  of  armament.  But  the  old 
principles  have  not  remained  entirely  intact,  for 
there  were  also  representatives  of  the  new  ideas  at 
The  Hague,  who  fortunately  achieved  the  founda 
tion  of  new  institutions.  Imagine  a  congress  of 
freethinkers  in  which  the  majority  of  the  delegates 
were  bishops  and  where  the  larger  part  of  the  time 
was  spent  in  discussing  the  regulation  of  ritualistic 
forms!  .  .  .  There  you  have  a  picture  of  the  first 
Hague  Peace  Congresses.  But  I  am  speaking  of  the 
next  one.  Since  the  last  one,  things  have  ripened. 
Since  then,  the  desire  for  peace  has  strengthened 
among  all  the  governments,  and  especially  among 
the  masses.  Since  then  the  waste  of  money  on 
armaments  has  reached  such  dimensions  that  uni 
versal  bankruptcy  is  at  hand.  Since  then,  the  battle 
ships  have  grown  into  such  monsters,  and  all  the 
other  instruments  of  death  and  destruction  have 
attained  such  fiendish  power,  that  they  serve  not 
so  much  for  fighting  as  for  combined  self-annihila 
tion.  .  .  .  Since  then,  the  common  people  have  been 
brought  to  the  end  of  their  endurance  by  loans  and 

374 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

taxes  and  high  prices.  Since  then,  the  proletariat, 
always  hostile  to  war,  has  more  and  more  come  to 
a  realization  of  its  solidarity  and  power.  Since  then, 
so  many  friendships,  treaties,  and  conventions  have 
arisen  that  it  needs  now  only  an  impulse  for  a  gen 
eral  European  'Legal  Union.'  Since  then,  all  the 
groups  interested  have  combined  in  an  international 
organization.  Since  then,  a  world-conscience  has 
come  into  being.  Since  then,  the  atmosphere  has 
been  conquered.  Since  then,  human  thoughts  have 
attained  wings.  .  .  .  Since  then  ..." 

The  old  gentleman  had  worked  himself  into  a 
fine  heat;  he  had  got  up,  and  at  every  sentence  his 
voice  had  grown  louder.  At  the  last  "Since  then," 
he  suddenly  stopped  and  sat  down  again.  Then  he 
went  on  in  a  calmer  tone:  — 

"Here  we  will  pause  —  at  the  conception  'Soar 
ing  Thoughts.'  The  delegates  to  the  next  confer 
ence  are  to  be  inspired  with  such  thinking.  They 
must  bring  with  them  the  resolution  to  accomplish 
something  great,  something  bold.  The  position  of 
affairs  has  so  entirely  changed  in  the  mean  time, 
with  its  promising  new  possibilities,  and  the  dangers, 
so  nearly  threatening,  must  be  looked  in  the  face 
unflinchingly.  That  would  be  our  salvation." 
"But  what  can  I  do-in  all  this,  Mr.  Toker?" 
"Prince,  you  by  virtue  of  your  rank  can  obtain 
the  ear  of  those  on  whose  will  the  programme  and 
the  results  of  the  conference  depend." 

"And  you  believe  that  I  could  influence  that?" 

"You  can  explain.   They  will  listen  to  you.   You 

can  show  what  golden  bridges  this  conference  offers. 

375 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

You  can  bring  it  about  that  a  peace  league  of  rulers 
shall  be  formed." 

"Rulers  are  the  prisoners  of  their  armies  ..." 

"If  they  do  not  break  these  chains,  which  also 
at  the  same  time  bind  the  peoples,  —  then  the  peo 
ples  will  do  it;  and  that  would  be  terrible,  like  every 
deed  of  despair." 

"And  do  you  believe  that  the  armies  would  con 
sent  to  disband?" 

"Who  speaks  about  'disbanding'?  If  the  States 
make  an  alliance  for  one  common  international  law, 
then  their  armies  —  the  greatly  reduced  armies  — 
will  unite  for  the  protection  of  the  laws  that  affect 
them  all  in  common,  for  defense  against  attacks 
from  those  that  stand  outside  the  alliance,  for  the 
maintenance  of  internal  order,  for  affording  aid  ..." 

"I  understand  .  .  ." 

"Yes,  I  knew  that  you  are  one  who  would  under 
stand.  But  do  you  understand  also  why  I,  an  Ameri 
can,  have  the  fate  of  Europe  so  deeply  at  heart ;  why 
I  want  to  see  the  Old  World  protected  from  a  catas 
trophe,  why  I  likewise  wish  that  its  aristocratic  and 
monarchical  institutions,  so  long  ago  with  us  out 
lived,  should,  at  least  for  a  time,  remain  intact?" 

"Perhaps  from  an  artistic  sense,"  suggested  the 
prince,  "just  as  we  preserve  picturesque  ruins." 

" '  Ruins'  is  too  strong  a  term;  they  are  still  proud 
and  lofty  castles ;  only  they  are  —  let  us  say  —  a 
little  dilapidated:  a  violent  storm  would  devastate 
them ;  they  can  still  be  safeguarded  by  rods.  Again, 
why  do  I  feel  and  act  for  Europe?  You  must  know 
that  we  Americans,  at  the  bottom  of  our  hearts 

376 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

cherish  a  family-feeling  for  Europe.  It  is  the  cradle 
of  our  race;  it  is  the  ultimate  source  of  our  civiliza 
tion  —  physically  and  spiritually,  it  is  our  ancestral 
fatherland.  We  love  it  and  are  thankful  to  it.  There 
fore  it  comes  about  that,  when  we  accomplish  any 
great  technical  advance  or  conceive  some  higher 
social  or  political  ideal,  we  immediately  feel  the  im 
pulse  to  let  the  '  whole  world '  —  and  by  that  term 
we  think  especially  of  Europe  —  share  in  it.  We  are 
like  children  who  have  been  educated  far  away, 
have  made  our  fortune  there,  and  regard  it  as  a 
pleasant  duty  to  send  back  to  the  aged  parents  some 
share  of  the  treasures  we  have  gained.  .  .  .  But  let 
us  return  to  our  conspiracy,  Prince.  You  are  not  the 
only  one  with  whom  I  am  conspiring.  I  place  my 
mines  in  various  localities.  The  Government  at 
Washington  is  in  the  alliance.  The  propositions 
which  it  will  bring  forward  at  the  next  conference 
will  not  leave  anything  in  the  way  of  '  High  Think 
ing'  to  be  desired.  I  have  already  spoken  with  the 
President  of  the  French  Republic  — " 

"Yes  —  as  I  have  mentioned  before:  Republi 
cans  —  " 

"  No ;  that  is  not  the  condition.  In  order  that  some 
thing  great  may  come  out  of  the  conference,  it  is 
essential  that  it  be  approached  with  magnanimous 
resolves ;  we  must  attempt  not  only  a  little  step  for 
ward,  but  we  must  attempt  flying.  I  know  one  man, 
one  powerful  man,  who  is  capable  of  making  such 
resolves  and  such  a  flight.  And  what  I  want  of 
you,  Prince,  is:  Speak  with  the  one  man  —  he  will 
listen  to  you  —  you  are  his  son!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

SPEECHES  AND  LETTERS 

WHEN  Victor  Adolph  left  Toker's  study,  he  felt  still 
more  oppressed  than  he  had  been  before.  A  new  task 
had  been  added  to  the  many  prospects  and  obliga 
tions  that  were  so  disturbing  to  his  peace  of  mind: 
alluring  prospects,  noble  tasks,  sweet  obligations, 
but  in  their  combination  a  scourge  of  anxieties.  And 
there  was  no  one  with  whom  he  might  take  counsel, 
to  whom  he  might  open  his  heart;  on  the  contrary, 
he  had  the  perpetual  companionship  of  a  man  from 
whom  he  was  obliged  to  conceal  his  inmost  thoughts 
and  inclinations  —  this  Orell  —  and  now  he  had 
two  more  secrets  to  hide  from  him.  Suppose  he 
should  discover  that  the  Royal  Highness  entrusted 
to  his  protection  had  offered  himself  to  a  woman 
without  rank  and  title,  and  had  concealed  plans 
with  an  American  for  the  demilitarization  of  Eu 
rope! 

Victor  Adolph  could  not  help  smiling  as  he  pic 
tured  to  himself  the  general  standing  there,  his  face 
scarlet  with  wrath  and  horror,  his  hair  standing  on 
end,  and  the  points  of  his  mustaches  trembling. 
How  he  would  gasp  for  words  and  for  breath,  and 
how  these  words  would  be  even  more  laconic  and 
drastic  than  ever  —  "Prince  ripe  for  the  madhouse! 
.  .  .Cursed  girl  .  .  .  Caught  in  the  first  net.  .  .  . 

378 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Old  Yankeedoodle  .  .  .  Proposals  to  His  Majesty! 
...  To  hell  with  the  Rose-Saint- Vitus-dance !" 

As  he  drove  away,  the  prince  met  Helmer  return 
ing  from  the  morning  walk.  The  encounter  was  a 
pleasant  surprise.  Here  was  one  with  whom  he 
might  exchange  a  few  thoughts,  —  at  least,  might 
talk  with  him  about  Toker's  plans,  —  since  he  was 
already  initiated  into  the  conspiracy. 

"Good-morning,  Herr  Helmer;  I  am  glad  to  meet 
you.  Are  you  just  on  your  way  home?" 

"Yes,  Your  Royal  Highness." 

"Have  you  anything  important  that  you  must  do 
immediately?" 

"Not  at  all." 

"Then,  if  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  go  with  you 
to  your  lodgings." 

"That  will  be  an  honor  and  a  pleasure.  If  you 
please,  this  way,  Your  Royal  Highness;  my  rooms 
are  on  the  ground  floor." 

He  conducted  the  prince  up  a  few  steps,  through 
a  corridor  to  his  sitting-room  door,  which  he  opened 
to  usher  his  visitor  in. 

"But  you  are  all  roses  here!"  cried  Victor  Adolph 
as  he  entered. 

"Yes,  the  whole  house  is  dedicated  to  the  queen 
of  flowers.  But  all  this  splendor  will  soon  be  ended. 
Two  days  more  and  the  Rose- Week  will  be  a  thing 
of  the  past.  Then  we  shall  all  be  scattered  to  the 
four  winds." 

"  But  what  has  been  uttered,  planted,  experienced, 
felt  here  will  not  be  scattered  to  the  winds."  And 
as  the  prince  sat  down  in  the  easy-chair  which  Hel- 

379 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

mer  pushed  forward  for  him,  he  added  with  a  deep 
sigh,  "  I  have  gone  through  a  vast  lot  of  experiences 
since  I  have  been  here." 

Helmer  looked  up  inquiringly:  "Yet  nothing  ter 
rible,  I  hope?" 

"That's  as  one  looks  at  it  —  may  I?"  And  he 
took  a  cigarette  from  a  smoking-table  standing  near. 

Helmer  gave  him  a  light,  then  sat  down  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  and  they  were  soon  engaged 
in  earnest  talk. 

The  prince  related  his  interviews  with  the  master 
of  the  house,  the  news  which  he  had  got  from  the 
letters  and  papers  and  the  plans  that  Toker  had 
developed.  Helmer  manifested  the  liveliest  interest. 
The  observations  that  he  interpolated,  the  opinions 
that  he  expressed,  the  warmth  and  readiness  of  en 
thusiasm  which  accompanied  all  his  words  and  ges 
tures,  were  so  sympathetic  to  the  prince  that  he  felt 
mightily  drawn  to  the  poet.  It  did  him  good  to  be 
free  to  talk  with  an  intelligent  mind  about  the  mis 
sion  with  which  Toker  had  entrusted  him.  His  bur 
den  of  care  already  began  to  seem  lighter.  Here  he 
could  find  counsel  and  stimulus  and  support.  His 
heart  began  to  glow. 

"  It  is  a  perfect  delight,  Helmer,"  said  he,  bending 
over  the  table  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  other's 
arm,  "to  speak  about  these  things  with  you.  You 
have  experience  and  a  keen  insight,  and  you  have  — 
what  shall  I  call  it?  —  Schwingen  —  pinions  —  the 
upsoaring  spirit ...  I  wish  you  were  my  friend  .  .  . 
Be  my  friend!" 

"  I  am,  as  far  as  I  may,  my  prince." 
380 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

The  two  men  shook  hands. 

"Truly,  I  have  never  had  a  friend ;  always  nothing 
but  flatterers,  time-servers,  or  else  highly  respect 
able  jailors,  eager  maitres  de  plaisir;  here  and  there, 
among  those  of  my  own  rank  and  relationship,  a  good 
fellow  all  too  ready  for  sport  and  the  like  —  but  a 
friend?  Not  one!  Not  one  whom  one  may  trust  if 
one  is  in  trouble  or  is  experiencing  a  great  happiness 
—  not  one  to  ask  advice  of  in  a  difficulty." 

"Is  that  your  case,  Your  Highness?"  asked  Hel- 
mer  sympathetically. 

"That  is  my  case." 

"Will  you  honor  me  with  your  confidence?" 

The  prince  stood  up  and  walked  in  some  agitation 
back  and  forth  a  few  times ;  then  he  went  to  the  win 
dow  and  gazed  out  for  a  while.  He  was  evidently 
having  a  struggle  with  himself.  Then  he  suddenly 
turned  round:  —  "Well,  then,  listen!" 

Helmer  had  also  risen  and  was  leaning  on  his 
writing-table  which  stood  near  the  window.  He  bent 
his  head.  "I  am  listening."  And  at  the  same  time 
a  suspicion  flashed  through  his  mind  that  he  was 
about  to  hear  something  unpleasant. 

"Well,  then,"  proceeded  Victor  Adolph.  "Happi 
ness,  difficulty  —  everything  comes  all  at  once. 
During  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  more  things  and 
more  important  things  have  surged  into  my  life 
than  hitherto  in  many  years.  It  has  been  revealed 
to  me  that  a  position  of  great  power  —  the  position 
of  a  monarch  —  a  crown  —  might  be  offered  to  me. 
I  am  as  democratic  in  my  instincts  as  any  one  could 
well  be ;  you  know  that .  .  .  yet,  I  confess,  the  notion 

38i 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

seems  dazzling  to  me.  In  the  case  of  other  men  only, 
too  great  power  seems  perilous;  in  one's  own  case, 
one  is  convinced  that  it  can  be  used  only  for  advan 
tage.  How  much  I  could  help  and  accomplish  — 
even  in  the  spirit  of  those  '  lofty  thoughts '  which  are 
at  the  present  time  soaring  out  from  here  into  the 
world.  —  Then  the  mission,  which  I  have  under 
taken  at  Toker's  desire,  to  win  over  my  father  to  an 
action  which  might  establish  on  a  firm  basis  his 
treasured  ideal  of  international  peace  —  all  these 
things  would  be  splendid  tasks." 

"  In  what  consists  the  trouble,  Prince?  I  see  only 
the  happiness  and  no  difficulty." 

"The  happiness  consists  in  something  else  —  and 
the  difficulty  is,  that  I  must  renounce  either  those 
duties  or  the  happiness.  If  I  cling  to  the  happiness, 
I  should  lose  yonder  position  and  influence,  and  per 
haps  my  rank.  I  am  in  love,  Helmer,  madly  in  love 
—  and  I  have  not  the  strength  of  will  to  renounce 
my  beloved :  —  yesterday  I  made  her  an  offer  of 
marriage." 

Helmer  was  playing  with  a  paper-cutter:  it  fell 
with  a  crash  on  the  floor.  He  stooped  over  to  pick  it 
up,  and  thus  he  concealed  the  pallor  that  suddenly 
invaded  his  face.  So  then  the  moment  had  arrived, 
when  that  which  he  had  so  often  dreaded  was  a 
reality.  He  had  really  never  even  hoped  to  win 
Franka;  he  had  himself  hinted  to  her  the  remote 
possibility  that  the  prince  would  be  her  suitor  and 
had  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  he  would  unsel 
fishly  rejoice  at  it.  But  hitherto  it  had  been  only  an 
unreal  figment  of  his  imagination;  now  it  was  the 

382 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

truth.  He  took  longer  in  regaining  the  paper-cutter 
than  was  necessary.  Now  he  drew  himself  up  once 
more. 

"So  you  are  to  be  congratulated,"  he  said,  trying 
hard  to  control  his  voice.  "Is  Fraulein  Garlett  al 
ready  your  betrothed?" 

"  I  cannot  as  yet  call  her  that . . .  she  has  not  given 
her  answer  .  .  .  the  whole  affair  is  still  a  secret.  Oh, 
Helmer,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  it  has  relieved  me  to 
take  you  into  my  confidence!" 

Without  knocking,  John  Toker  entered  the  room : 
"Hello,  Mr.  Helmer;  the  gong  is  about  sounding 
for  luncheon;  I  wanted  to  speak  with  you  about 
something  beforehand.  Ah,  you  are  not  alone?  ..." 
He  at  that  instant  became  aware  of  the  presence 
of  Victor  Adolph,  who  stepped  forward  from  the 
embrasure  of  the  window.  "Ah,  is  it  you,  Your 
Highness?" 

"Yes,  it  is  I;  but  I  must  be  going  now."  And  he 
heartily  took  his  leave  of  the  two  men. 

Helmer  entered  the  dining-room  in  great  agita 
tion.  How  could  he  endure  meeting  Franka  with  the 
knowledge  that  the  die  had  been  cast,  that  she  was 
about  to  belong  to  another?  And  how  would  he  suc 
ceed  in  hiding  the  pangs  of  jealousy  which  tormented 
his  heart?  Yet  he  was  spared  for  a  time  these  diffi 
culties.  Franka  was  not  present,  and  he  was  in 
formed  that  she  had  sent  her  apologies  for  missing  the 
luncheon  —  she  had  a  headache.  Helmer  felt  re 
lieved,  and  yet  disappointed.  Now  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  he  had  a  hundred  things  to  say  to  her,  and  as  if 

383 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

he  had  been  robbed  of  his  privilege  of  being  the  first 
to  congratulate  her,  the  first  who  should  venture  to 
speak  with  her  about  this  crisis  in  her  destiny,  even 
before  the  others  knew  anything  about  it. 

The  conversation  at  table  on  this  occasion  was 
very  animated.  Toker's  guests,  as  well  as  Toker  him 
self,  had  detected  in  the  reports  of  newspapers  signs 
of  threatening  political  peril,  and  there  was  a  dis 
cussion  of  the  conditions.  It  was  conducted  in  a 
tone  of  dismay,  but  not  at  all  in  the  spirit  of  the 
usual  political  "Kannegiessereien" — narrow-minded 
twaddle:  no  combinations  based  on  diplomatic-na 
tional-strategical-historical  premises  as  to  whether,  if 
X-land  should  declare  war  on  Z-land,  Y-land  should 
stand  by  X  or  Z;  whether  X  or  Z  would  have  the 
better  chances  of  winning  out;  in  what  relationship 
the  sea-power  of  the  one  would  stand  toward  the 
air-power  of  the  other ;  from  what  grounds  of  rivalry 
or  expansion  the  conflict  had  arisen  and  its  outbreak 
become  unavoidable;  what  clashing  of  interests  in 
lofty  spheres  and  what  alterations  of  boundary  lines 
were  imminent,  and  other  technical  absurdities  of 
the  same  routine  variety.  No,  here  were  assembled 
the  elite  among  men,  who  looked  down  from  the 
higher  pinnacles  on  the  course  of  the  world;  who 
based  their  judgment  on  philosophical  criteria  and 
their  will  on  humane  sentiments. 

The  French  senator  and  the  American  statesman, 
as  they  sat  side  by  side,  had  been  for  five  minutes 
engaged  in  a  confidential  conversation.  Then  the 
Frenchman  arose,  and  tapping  on  his  glass  to  call  the 
attention  of  the  Table  Round,  spoke  as  follows :  — 

384 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

11 1  ask  your  hearing  for  a  proposal."  All  came  to 
silence.  With  the  refined,  quiet  manner  of  a  diploma 
tist  he  went  on :  —  "  My  honored  friend,  sitting  next 
to  me,  whose  statesmanlike  services  for  the  cause 
of  peace  are  known  to  all  of  you,  and  I,  have  just 
been  talking  over  an  idea  which  has  been  suggested 
by  the  political  news  so  unanimously  commented 
upon  in  our  midst.  The  war  of  the  future,  so  long 
predicted,  stands  before  our  door:  not  so  near  that 
it  may  surprise  us  at  any  hour,  but  still  near  enough 
to  make  us  mobilize  without  delay  all  the  forces  that 
can  be  used  to  ward  it  off." 

"Hear,  hear!"  cried  John  Toker,  with  flashing 
eyes. 

"There  are  people  who  desire  this  war  —  espe 
cially  among  the  officers  and  general-staff  circles,  with 
whom  such  a  desire  is  part  of  their  profession  —  and 
there  are  people  who  do  not  want  it.  Now  the  ques 
tion  is,  which  of  these  two  groups  will  have  the  pre 
ponderance?  The  masses,  for  the  most  part,  wher 
ever  there  is  any  thought  at  all,  belong  to  the  second 
group,  but  they  are  dumb  and  as  yet  powerless  —  I 
say  as  yet  powerless,  for  the  day  may  come,  and  now 
seems  not  so  very  far  away,  when  this  will  no  longer 
be  the  case.  But  to-day  the  power  of  decision  still 
lies  in  the  hands  of  the  few.  Among  these  few  some 
are  for  war  —  some  are  against  it.  Here  also  those 
who  are  against  it  are  already  more  numerous;  but 
the  others  have  higher  positions  and  more  influ 
ence.  What  we  have  to  do,  then,  is  to  weigh  down 
the  scales  against  the  war  with  the  weight  of  pub 
lic  opinion  and  the  combined  pressure  of  widely 

385 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

renowned  and  highly  respected  names.    And  now 
comes  our  proposition." 

He  paused  to  drink  a  swallow  of  water.  The  others 
gave  eager  attention.  Helmer  also,  who  had  been 
till  that  moment  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  was 
now  listening  attentively:  — 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  continued  the  senator, 
"we  possess  here  —  thanks  to  the  genius  and  the 
millions  of  our  host  —  it  is  good  when  these  two  are 
combined  —  an  apparatus  for  publicity  of  marvel 
ous  efficacy.  What  we  say  here  is  sent  by  wireless 
telegraphy  circling  round  the  world;  it  is  taken  up 
by  ten  thousand  rotary  presses,  is  repeated  by  ten 
thousand  phonographs,  is  preserved  in  all  the  libra 
ries  and  archives  in  existence.  So  much  for  the 
echo.  And  now  for  the  weight.  Let  us  put  aside 
false  modesty;  the  Knighthood  of  the  Rose  must 
be  conscious  and  ought  to  be  conscious  of  its  noble 
rank,  in  order  to  be  forever  mindful  of  the  work  to 
which  it  is  pledged.  John  Toker  summons  only  his 
contemporaries  of  world-wide  reputation ;  only  those 
who  through  their  art,  their  scientific  abilities,  their 
inventions,  their  political  activities,  —  particularly 
their  service  in  the  politics  of  peace,  —  have  served 
all  men,  and  therefore  possess  universal  authority. 
Just  as  in  every  great  country  there  is  the  upper  ten 
thousand  of  the  aristocracy,  so  we  —  once  more  I 
say,  away  with  false  modesty!  —  form  the  world's 
half-hundred  of  talent." 

Toker  clapped  his  hands;  the  others  began  to  do 
the  same,  but  the  speaker  stretched  out  his  arm  in 
a  deprecating  gesture  and  proceeded :  — 

386 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"We  have  here  a  tribune  which  is  visible  from  all 
the  civilized  places  of  the  earth ;  our  voices  ring  out 
as  from  a  gigantic  gramophone.  So  let  us  raise  these 
voices  in  a  solemn  protest.  Let  us  on  the  last  even 
ing,  instead  of  indulging,  as  usually  is  prearranged 
on  such  occasions,  in  rhetorical  and  artistic  perform 
ances,  —  let  us  attempt  an  act  of  rescue.  Let  us,  in 
a  tone  of  thunder,  call  a  halt  to  this  disaster!  This 
disaster  is  no  elementary  catastrophe  beyond  the 
power  of  the  human  will ;  it  is  an  action  commanded 
by  rulers  and  executed  by  the  nations,  and  it  must 
not  be  commanded  and  it  must  not  be  executed.  If 
all  see  clearly  how  things  lie,  and  if  all  have  the  op 
portunity  to  express  their  will,  the  '  Halt ! '  sounding 
forth  from  here  can  swell  up  into  an  irresistible  nega 
tive.  The  threatening  war  —  we  all  know  what  an 
insignificant  controversy  is  at  the  bottom  of  it  — 
can  be  averted  either  by  mediation  or  by  an  appeal 
to  the  Court  of  Arbitration.  If  this  is  not  done,  if 
the  Fury  —  a  Fury  armed  with  fangs,  fins,  and  jaws, 
and  now  also  with  wings  —  is  again  let  loose,  then 
it  will  kindle  a  world-conflagration.  We  will  to-day 
give  the  world  a  clear  demonstration  of  the  case ;  we 
will  put  forth  an  energetic  demand  for  mediation  or 
arbitration ;  we  want  to  raise  a  strong  protest  against 
an  easy  or  an  intentional  sufferance  of  the  catas 
trophe.  In  all  the  centers,  where  our  message  pene 
trates,  opportunity  is  offered  for  all  the  leaders  and 
all  the  consenting  masses  to  unite ;  and  the  word  ut 
tered  here  may  swell  up  into  a  plebiscite  that  will 
encompass  the  earth.  Is  this  your  sentiment,  Mr. 
Toker?  —  do  you  agree  to  this,  gentlemen?" 

387 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Toker,  who  sat  opposite  the  speaker,  bent  across 
and  shook  both  his  hands. 

" Is  that  my  sentiment!  One  more  mine  laid!" 

Helmer,  as  soon  as  he  returned  to  his  room,  sat 
down  to  write  to  Franka.  He  felt  compelled  to 
speak  to  her.  His  heart  was  full  to  bursting.  Yet 
he  did  not  know  what  he  should  write  her.  Only 
the  necessity  was  upon  him  to  direct  to  her  another 
of  his  "Brother  Chlodwig"  letters,  after  the  manner 
of  those  which  he  had  sent  to  her  at  several  of  the 
serious  crises  of  her  life.  He  began :  — 

"Sister  Franka"  —  but  hardly  had  his  eyes 
rested  on  the  dear  name  when  he  was  irresistibly 
impelled  to  add,  "I  worship  thee!"  Of  course,  it 
was  evident  to  him  that  he  must  tear  up  this  sheet 
and  throw  it  into  the  waste-paper  basket.  But  first 
he  wanted  to  let  his  feelings  exhaust  themselves  to 
a  certain  degree  in  the  same  vein,  and  so  he  wrote 
further:  —  "Yes,  I  worship  thee!  Sweet  .  .  .  lovely 
.  .  .  the  only  one !  I  press  thee  to  my  heart  and  kiss 
thee  .  .  .  kiss  thee  ..."  (Oh,  how  this  word  flamed 
on  the  paper  —  he  wrote  it  a  third  time.)  ' '  Kiss  thee 
on  thine  eyelids,  on  thy  parted  lips !  Franka,  Franka, 
that  another  man  will  have  a  right  to  do  ...  it  is 
horrible!  ...  I  am  wretched!  .  .  .  How  can  I  en 
dure  it?  Let  us  not  think  of  it.  I  kiss  thee  again, 
Franka,  my  Franka,  mine,  mine,  mine.  .  .  .  The 
dear  lovely  name, 'Franka,'  in  French,  'Franche, ' 
is  n't  it?  Franchetta,  donna  idolatrata!  Frankie, 
my  own  darling!  Dost  thou  suspect  what  bliss 
thou  hast  to  dispose?  Dost  thou  know  also  ..." 

388 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

This  brought  him  to  the  end  of  the  page.  He  did 
not  turn  the  sheet  over,  but  tore  it  up  and  flung  it 
into  the  basket.  Then  he  put  another  sheet  before 
him,  sat  for  some  time  buried  in  thoughts,  and  then 
began  again  to  write.  This  was  to  be  the  actual 
letter  which  he  would  send :  — 


FRANKA  GARLETT! 

Again  you  stand  at  the  turning  of  the  ways  and  it  is  the 
privilege  of  Brother  Chlodwig  to  bring  you  a  few  words 
—  words  of  blessing.  To-day  you  have  withdrawn  your 
self  apparently  in  order  to  think  over  the  crisis  that  af 
fects  your  heart  and  your  future.  I  do  not  have  any  faith 
in  that  excuse  of  a  headache!  So  it  is  forbidden  me  to 
talk  with  you  about  the  matter:  therefore  I  am  writing. 
It  is,  after  all,  more  agreeable  for  me  to  do  so.  If  I  first 
offer  you  my  congratulations,  it  will  be  possible  for  me 
to  meet  you  more  calmly.  For  I  must  confess  that  I  am 
deeply  stirred.  I  should  not  have  found  the  right  attitude, 
the  right  words,  if  I  had  been  obliged  to  sit  by  your  side 
at  the  luncheon-table,  knowing  what  I  know,  and  appear 
calm  and  at  my  ease  in  the  presence  of  all  those  people, 
while  inwardly  I  was  more  disturbed  than  ever  before  in 
all  my  life. 

Franka,  do  you  remember?  I  was  the  first  to  give  you 
the  Valkyrie  consecration;  you  received  from  my  hands 
the  shield  and  the  spear.  These  weapons  have  certainly 
to-day  become  a  burden  to  you,  and  yet  you  perhaps  feel 
a  reproach  from  your  conscience  at  the  thought  of  laying 
them  down.  Now  I  will  be  helpful  to  you,  and  I  myself 
will  put  forth  my  hand  to  relieve  you  of  them.  My  noble 
Valkyrie,  you  have  gallantly  battled  and  have  won  the 
victory  —  it  is  enough !  Be  henceforth  —  and  be  unregret- 
fully  —  merely  a  joyous  human  being,  just  a  happy 
woman.  A  fire-spell  flames  around  you,  but  there  is 
nothing  fabulous  about  it  —  it  is  only  Love.  .  .  . 

389 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

By  Victor  Adolph's  side,  you  will,  moreover,  be  able  to 
work  for  the  loftiest  human  ends.  For  he  himself  stands 
now  facing  mighty  tasks,  which  he  has  energetically  as 
sumed  and  which  you  will  be  able,  by  your  influence,  your 
advice,  your  sympathy,  greatly  to  forward.  Certainly, 
the  epoch  which  is  approaching  is  pregnant  with  fate  — 
so  much  explosive  material  has  been  heaped  up,  and  yet 
wisdom  enough  also  has  been  collected  to  hinder  the  ex 
plosion,  enough  also  to  conduct  the  forces  on  hand  from 
destructive  to  beneficent  uses.  Your  betrothed  will  help 
in  this  work  and  you  will  help  him.  Is  not  that  a  proud 
destiny? 

But,  above  all,  let  it  be  a  beautiful,  gladsome  destiny! 
Smile,  be  rapturous,  live,  be  crowned  with  roses. 

CHLODWIG. 

Helmer  folded  the  sheet  and  thrust  it  into  an 
envelope.  One  might  judge  from  the  contents  of 
the  letter  that  he  did  this  with  a  sort  of  gentle 
ceremoniousness ;  not  at  all:  he  did  it  grinding  his 
teeth,  with  fever-cold  hands,  with  swift-beating 
pulses.  Then  he  rang  for  his  man  and  ordered  him 
to  deliver  the  letter  immediately. 

Bruning  entered  the  room  simultaneously  with 
the  servant. 

"Ah,  I  am  glad  to  find  you  in,  Helmer;  I  have 
been  for  a  long  time  anxious  to  have  a  sensible  chat 
with  you. " 

Helmer  did  not  share  this  longing;  the  call 
seemed  to  him  highly  inopportune;  but  what  else 
could  he  say  than  "Fine;  I'm  pleased  to  see  you. 
Sit  down." 

Bruning  made  himself  at  home.  "  You  don't  look 
quite  up  to  concert-pitch,  old  man?  Evidently,  you 

390 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

are  right  glad  to  have  the  whole  affair  over  and  done 
with.  I,  too,  am  glad  enough  that  it  will  be  ended 
in  a  couple  of  days.  A  good  deal  has  been  very 
interesting,  but  the  whole  effect  is  so  exotic  and  so 
extravagant.  You  know  me  —  I  can't  stand  hum 
bug.  What 's  your  plan?  Where  are  you  going  from 
here?" 

"Going  back  to  Berlin.  And  you?" 

"  I  am  going  to  the  Sielenburg.  The  old  Countess 
Schollendorf  invited  me.  The  Sielenburg  really  be 
longs  to  Miss  Garlett,  does  n't  it?  And  she  has  still 
other  estates?  All  of  it  might  have  been  yours  long 
ago  if  you  had  been  a  bit  clever.  But  you  have  let 
her  get  snapped  away  from  you :  every  one  has  seen 
that  the  German  prince  is  after  her. " 

Helmer  made  a  gesture  of  annoyance.  "And  you 
call  this  a  sensible  chat?" 

"Well,  then,  let's  talk  about  other  things.  There 
is  lots  of  news.  Our  famous  sportsman  yesterday 
got  a  pair  of  wings  fitted  to  him  and  fell  into  the 
lake." 

"Regenburg?  Was  he  drowned?" 

"No,  they  fished  him  out.  But  if  I  know  him,  he 
will  not  rest  until  he  has  flown  round  the  Stefans- 
turm.  Ambition  is  a  fine  thing  and  especially  when, 
by  satisfying  it,  one  breaks  his  own  neck  and  not 
otherpeople's  .  .  .  as  ambitious  statesmen  are  mighty 
apt  to  do.  In  their  case  hundreds  of  thousands  are 
in  danger  of  their  lives. " 

"You  have  in  mind  the  old-fashioned  type  of 
statesmen,"  said  Helmer,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"Not  by  a  long  chalk.  ...  I  had  especially  in 
39i 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

mind  our  Marchese  Rinotti.  He  will  blossom  out 
only  in  the  future,  and  he  will  have  nerve  and  tem 
perament  enough  to  mow  his  way  through  heca 
tombs  of  victims  in  perfect  sang-froid  if  it  suits  his 
plans.  That  belongs  to  his  trade. " 

"Times  are  changing,  my  dear  Franz.  .  .  .  Nowa 
days,  the  national  helmsmen  —  whether  princes  or 
ministers  —  already  begin  to  set  their  ambition  on 
being  considered  the  guardians  of  the  peace. " 

"In  their  words  and  phrases  .  .  .  but  you  are  ir 
retrievably  naif,  my  good  Chlodwig.  Whoever  is  to 
be  a  genuine  statesman  must  lie,  must  endeavor 
to  pull  the  wool  over  the  eyes  of  the  others.  He  con 
tracts  friendship  with  other  powers,  not  in  the  least 
out  of  good  will  toward  his  allies,  but  to  make  com 
mon  head  against  a  third.  He  secretly  stirs  up  en 
mities  ;  for  he  may  get  advantage  from  possible  con 
flicts  of  others  in  which  he  himself  is  not  involved. 
In  order  to  confirm  and  strengthen  his  own  power, 
he  without  any  scruples  drives  rough-shod  over  all 
obstacles,  such  as  treaties,  conventions,  and  the 
like:  in  short,  he —  " 

" In  short,  he  is  a  scoundrel!" 

"Call  it  so.  In  popular  parlance  he  is  a  genius. 
But  don't  let  us  dispute.  Your  kingdom  is  in  the 
clouds.  Only  I  fear  you  will  soon  get  a  bad  fall.  Do 
you  happen  to  be  reading  the  news?  Such  things 
are  under  way  as  — " 

"Oh,  I  know  perfectly  well  what  is  threatening; 
but  I  know  also  what  beckons.  I  have  long  given 
up  discussing  with  you.  It  is  remarkable  how  two 
men,  classmates  and  comrades  in  childhood  and  in 

392 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  early  days  of  youth,  can  so  grow  apart  in  their 
views  of  life.  And  neither  of  us  is  stupid!" 

"The  difference  is  this  —  you  are  intellectual  and 
I  am  prudent. " 

"I  hate  the  word  'prudent.'  It  sounds  cold  and 
harsh:  it  has  no  uplift." 

"That  I  grant  you,  my  dear  pinion-poet!  I  am  a 
sober,  matter-of-fact  man.  As  such  let  me  tell  you 
a  couple  of  incidents  from  real  life.  You  must  know 
that  the  two  interesting  widows,  to  whom  I  intro 
duced  you  lately  —  that  impetuous  Countess  Sol- 
nikova  and  that  gentle  Annette  Felsen  —  have  been 
having  a  great  experience  during  the  last  two  days. 
Romances  are  brought  to  a  climax  here  with  amaz 
ing  rapidity  .  .  .  perhaps  for  the  reason  that  we 
have  here,  as  it  were,  only  a  week's  respite.  Now 
the  countess  has  been  making  a  little  flight  with 
your  Polish  composer  —  not  a  flight  in  the  figura 
tive,  but  in  the  actual,  sense  of  the  word.  For  you 
see  they  hired  a  fine  aerotaxi  and  in  it  flew  over  the 
mountains:  the  wind  drove  them  into  a  deserted 
region  and  they  had  to  spend  the  night  in  a  shed 
.  .  .  There  is  no  need  of  harboring  any  suspicions 
about  it.  And  as  regards  Annette  Felsen  she  be 
came  regularly  engaged  to  our  Machiavelli  yester 
day." 

"Is  that  so?"  said  Helmer,  with  mild  interest. 
"Yes, "  he  added  rather  to  himself,  "  romances  come 
to  a  climax  here  with  great  rapidity." 

At  the  very  door  of  his  hotel,  Prince  Victor  Adolph 
met  General  Orell,  who  came  to  him  in  great  haste. 

393 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"At  last,  Your  Royal  Highness,"  he  exclaimed; 
and  added  reproachfully,  "You  went  out  without 
my  escort!" 

"  I  don't  want  always  to  trouble  you,  dear  Orell. " 

"A  telegram  has  just  come  for  Your  Royal 
Highness. " 

Victor  Adolph,  surprised,  took  the  dispatch  and 
tore  open  the  envelope.  He  was  evidently  startled. 
The  dispatch  was  from  his  father:  —  "Your  pres 
ence  here  is  imperatively  needed  in  a  highly  impor 
tant  political  emergency,  affecting  you  personally. 
Come  by  next  train. " 

"  If  possible  we  must  leave  this  very  day.  Please, 
General,  find  what  time  the  trains  start  and  bring 
me  the  information  to  my  room.  I  will  precede 
you." 

As  soon  as  he  reached  his  room,  he  threw  himself 
down  into  his  easy-chair,  and  read  the  dispatch  a 
second  time.  Evidently  it  concerned  that  eventual 
ity  of  the  throne  .  .  .  then  he  must  obey.  Besides, 
he  would  necessarily  in  any  case  obey  such  a  per 
emptory  command  of  his  father  and  king.  Yet  how 
inconveniently  it  came.  .  .  .  That  other  great  even 
tuality  —  his  relations  with  Franka  —  was  still  in 
the  air  —  he  had  not  as  yet  received  her  answer, 
and  she  knew  nothing  of  the  difficulties  that  had  to 
be  surmounted.  To  depart  now!  Truly,  too  many 
complications  .  .  . 

General  Orell  brought  the  time-table.  The  next, 
being  also  the  last  train,  left  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  now  one,  —  time  enough  for 
making  preparations  and  for  a  farewell  call  upon 

394 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka.  He  felt  he  must  speak  with  her.  He  took 
a  hasty  luncheon  with  Orell.  Then  he  returned  to 
his  study  and  put  his  papers  in  order.  He  wrote  to 
Toker,  explaining  his  sudden  departure  and  prom 
ised  to  keep  his  task  in  mind.  He  also  addressed 
a  few  cordial  lines  to  Helmer. 

Now  the  next  thing  was  to  go  to  Franka.   What 
should  he  say  to  her?   If  she  accepted  his  proposal, 

—  and  he  really  had  no  doubt  that  she  would,  — 
the  engagement  could  not  possibly  be  made  public 

—  certainly  not  at  this  time,  when  the  question  of 
the  accession  to  the  throne  was  still  undecided:  it 
would  be  the  most  unsuitable  moment  to  anger  his 
father.   His  choice  would  anger  not  only  his  father, 
but  the  whole  clique.    He  was  well  aware  of  that. 
What  a  lunatic  world !  What  a  compulsion !  Under 
other  circumstances,  he  would  have  been  more  than 
willing  to  renounce  all  the  prerogatives  of  his  rank, 
in  order,  without  further  dissimulation,  to  follow 
the  dictates  of  his  heart  as  a  private  citizen.    But 
the  question  for  him  did  not  merely  concern  an 
empty  title  and  the  insignificant  gratifications  con 
nected  with  it ;  it  was  perhaps  a  question  of  an  actual 
position  of  power  in  which  he  could  do  immeasur 
able  public  service.    Even  if  he  did  not  attain  the 
crown,  it  would  nevertheless  be  necessary  to  retain 
his  rank  and  his  influence  for  the  furtherance  of  the 
mission  entrusted  to  him  by  Toker.  If  he  now  should 
fall  out  with  his  family  and  the  people  of  his  own 
class,  how  could  he  then  carry  on  a  propaganda 
among  them  for  the  objects  of  the  conspiracy?    It 
was  a    complicated    situation  —  no    single    direct 

395 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

aim  for  his  duties  and  desires.  But  supreme  in  his 
heart,  his  fancy,  his  very  blood,  was  still  the  image 
of  the  lovely  Franka,  and  there  was  the  hot  desire 
to  hold  her  in  his  arms. 

With  quick  steps  and  a  mind  deeply  disturbed, 
he  covered  the  short  distance  back  to  the  Rose- 
Palace.  He  found  the  door  to  Franka's  apartments 
open;  the  anteroom  was  empty,  and  he  knocked  at 
the  salon  door  and  entered. 

Frau  von  Rockhaus  came  to  meet  him:  "Oh, 
Your  Royal  Highness  ..." 

"May  I  speak  with  Fraulein  Garlett?" 

"  Franka  is  not  at  home.  How  sorry  she  will  be —  " 

"No,  no,  my  dear  lady,  she  must  not  be  denied 
to  me.  ...  I  must  speak  with  her  —  it  is  too  im 
portant.  " 

"On  my  word  of  honor,  she  is  not  in.  She  went 
out  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago  with  Miss  Toker.  She 
did  not  go  down  to  the  d6jeuner,  and  so  Miss  Toker 
came  to  see  what  had  become  of  her  and  persuaded 
her  to  take  a  drive  —  the  fresh  air  would  do  her 
good." 

"Then  I  will  wait  till  she  returns." 

"The  two  ladies  will  not  be  back  before  five 
o'clock.  Their  intention  was  to  go  to  a  place  of  re 
sort,  quite  a  distance  away." 

"What  was  the  name  of  the  place? " 

"  I  do  not  remember  the  name. " 

Victor  Adolph  suppressed  a  curse.  This  was  too 
unfortunate.  So,  then,  he  would  have  to  leave  the 
town  without  seeing  her  again.  .  .  .  He  begged  per 
mission  to  write  a  few  lines  for  the  young  lady. 

396 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Frau  Eleonore  conducted  him  to  the  writing-table, 
and  provided  him  with  paper.  He  began  to  write, 
but  his  hand  trembled  so  violently  that  the  letters 
ran  together,  and  he  could  not  collect  his  thoughts. 
He  threw  the  pen  aside,  crumpled  up  the  sheet,  and 
arose:  "I  prefer  to  write  at  home,"  said  he,  and 
hastily  took  his  departure. 

In  the  quiet  of  his  own  room,  he  managed,  after 
much  consideration  and  some  false  beginnings,  to 
compose  the  following  message :  — 

GNADIGES  FRAULEIN! 

As  I  have  not  as  yet  received  a  consenting  answer  to 
my  question,  I  do  not  venture  to  use  any  more  intimate 
address.  Frau  von  Rockhaus  will  tell  you  that  I  came  to 
see  you.  But  she  does  not  know  how  unhappy  it  made  me 
to  miss  you.  A  telegram  from  my  father  —  which  I  in 
close  —  compels  me  to  leave  Lucerne  by  the  five  o'clock 
train.  It  is  terrible  to  me  not  to  have  had  a  chance  to  see 
you  and  talk  with  you  before  my  departure.  I  know  that 
you  are  to  remain  in  Lucerne  for  three  or  four  days  longer. 
I  hope  sincerely  that  I  can  return  —  unless  you  forbid  me. 
In  any  case,  wherever  you  are,  pray  let  me  know  the 
place  where  I  may  get  the  answer  from  you  that  will  de 
cide  my  fate. 

I  still  owe  it  to  you  to  explain  my  circumstances  and 
the  conditions  which  these  circumstances  impose  upon 
me.  This  I  can  do  only  by  word  of  mouth.  But  I  will 
repeat  in  writing  what  I  said  yesterday  from  an  over 
flowing  heart:  I  love  you  and  ask  you  to  be  my  wife! 

VICTOR  ADOLPH. 
Address:  Royal  Palace . 

When  Franka  had  returned  from  her  excursion 
with  Gwendoline,  she  found  the  two  letters.  She 

397 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

read  and  re-read  them,  first  hastily,  then  deliber 
ately,  weighing  every  word  and  trying  to  find  be 
tween  the  lines  what  had  gone  forth  from  the  hearts 
of  the  senders.  From  Victor  Adolph's  —  although 
the  conclusion  of  it  confirmed  the  greatest  proof  of 
love  that  a  man  can  give  a  woman:  the  offer  of  his 
hand  —  there  seemed  to  emanate  a  cool  breath ; 
from  Helmer's,  on  the  other  hand,  —  although  in  it 
he  gave  her  away  to  another,  —  came  forth  some 
thing  like  a  warm  caress. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  CORNUCOPIA  FULL  OF   GIFTS 

THE  next  to  the  last  evening  of  this  Rose- Week  was 
at  hand.  The  principal  speaker  was  to  be  that 
young  American,  as  yet  unknown  to  the  great  ma 
jority,  to  whom  Helmer  had  referred  when  he  said 
to  the  little  coterie  at  the  hotel:  "I  know  of  things 
which  are  in  preparation  .  .  .  there  is  in  our  midst 
an  inventor,  a  conqueror  ..." 

In  the  hall  great  excitement  reigned.  The  pre 
liminary  exercises,  although  they  were  of  the  highest 
artistic  excellence,  had  been  listened  to  with  but 
half  an  ear.  Only  when  the  American  had  taken  his 
place  at  the  reading-desk  did  the  public  experience 
that  piquant  satisfaction  which  one  expresses  in  the 
three  words:  "Now  it  is  coming!" 

Franka  did  not  come  down  until  just  before  the 
recess;  she  took  her  place  in  a  somewhat  remote 
and  dimly  lighted  corner.  But  Helmer  caught  sight 
of  her  and  hastened  to  her.  She  was  alone.  Frau 
Eleonore,  afflicted  with  a  bad  headache,  had  gone 
to  bed. 

Franka  offered  Helmer  her  hand:  "Thank  you 
for  your  letter,  Brother  Chlodwig.  Sit  down  with 
me."  And  she  made  room  for  him  on  the  small 
sofa  on  which  she  was  seated.  "But  tell  me  how 
you  knew  that  the  prince  — " 

"He  himself  told  me  so." 
399 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"That  he  was  betrothed  to  me?" 

"That  he  had  proposed  to  you  .  .  .  and  now  he 
has  been  compelled  to  go  away." 

"You  know  that,  too?" 

"He  told  me  this  in  a  note.  This  is  really  sad  for 
both  of  you." 

"He  will  be  back  again." 

"Back  here?  But  you  were  intending  to  return 
to  Austria  after  the  Rose- Week  ..." 

"But  he  might  come  to  Austria." 

"Of  course." 

Both  were  silent.  Helmer  himself  did  not  under 
stand  how  it  was  possible  for  him  to  speak  with  her 
so  calmly  and  not  to  show  any  sign  of  the  mighty 
feelings  that  were  tormenting  him.  However,  he 
had  actually  become  more  composed  in  her  presence 
—  such  loftiness  and  purity  radiated  from  her  that 
covetous  emotions  and  jealous  ideas  were  banished 
from  her  vicinity.  He  enveloped  her  in  a  gentle,  af 
fectionate  glance.  How  beautiful  she  was  in  her  flow 
ing  white  robe  with  the  modest  bunch  of  violets  at 
her  breast,  and  the  proud  string  of  pearls  around  her 
neck !  yes,  proud  and  modest  she  was,  and  thus  she 
adorned  herself. 

For  a  time  she  met  his  eyes.  There  lay  in  them  the 
same  delicate,  affectionate  caress  that  she  had 
detected  between  the  lines  of  his  letter.  Then  she 
broke  the  silence. 

"I  like  your  fraternal  letters.  Always,  when  a 
fateful  hour  is  striking  for  me,  comes  such  a  letter 
and  brings  me  comfort,  stimulus,  warning,  or  bless 
ing,  as  it  happens.  And  in  such  symbolical  language: 

400 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

at  one  time,  you  hand  me  shield  and  spear,  and  this 
time  it  was  myrtle  and  the  bridal  veil.  Yet  you  did 
not  say  that ;  you  carefully  avoid  such  banal  figures 
of  speech!" 

"Carefully?  No:  he  who  is  tormented  by  fear  of 
commonplaces  can  never  be  true  and  simple.  Tell 
me,  Franka,  also  quite  truly  and  simply,  how  do  you 
feel  in  view  of  this  turn  in  your  fate?" 

Franka  deliberated.  Then  with  a  deep  breath: 
"  How  do  I  feel  about  it?  Truly,  that  is  not  so  simple 
to  say.  Such  remarkable  experiences  have  come  to 
me  ...  in  what  I  have  gone  through  this  week:  it 
is  not  merely  one,  there  are  ten  emotions.  Just  as 
after  a  convulsion  of  nature,  islands  are  suddenly 
surging  up,  mountains  are  toppled  over,  so  has 
my  earth-surface  been  transformed.  The  Garlett 
career  has  been  drowned  .  .  .  Franka's  love-life  has 
come  to  the  surface." 

"Franka's  love-life  ..."  repeated  Helmer  slowly 
and  softly. 

"But  that  is  not  all,"  continued  Franka;  "so 
much  that  is  new  has  surged  into  my  spiritual  life. 
My  conception  of  life  has  altered,  has  widened;  I 
have  seen  such  magnificent,  such  tremendous  things 
arise,  things  still  unsuspected  by  any  of  us.  And  in 
the  measure  as  my  conception  of  life  has  grown,  the 
little  Ego  has  shrivelled  up.  And  what  this  poor 
little  Ego  can  do  for  the  incomprehensible  giant 
'world'  seems  so  insignificant  to  it  that  it  recalls 
that,  after  all,  it  is  a  part  of  the  universe,  a  tiny 
part  endowed  with  a  right  to  happiness.  Every  man 
has  two  souls  in  his  breast,  which  take  counsel  and 

401 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

struggle  with  each  other,  and  say:  'I  claim  my 
right.'" 

"Yes,  I  understand.  .  .  .  Then  the  one  Franka 
does  what  the  other  wants,  and  —  a  third  person  is 
blessed." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted :  Baron  Malhof 
joined  them,  and  so  it  became  three-cornered.  And 
then  the  young  American  began  to  speak,  and  all 
stopped  talking  and  listened. 

His  first  words  were:  —  "I  bring  gifts!"  —  then 
he  made  a  brief  pause:  —  "A  cornucopia  of  gifts: 
immeasurable  riches  for  you,  for  all  the  world!" 

Again  he  paused  for  a  while,  and  just  as  he  began, 
so  he  continued  his  discourse  in  paragraphs  sepa 
rated  by  brief  pauses,  and  the  paragraphs  marked 
by  concise  sentences. 

"You  who  will  receive  these  gifts  will  not  exult 
like  children  around  a  Christmas  tree.  Children 
receive  what  they  comprehend,  what  they  have  been 
wanting,  what  they  immediately  use.  The  new 
things  that  I  bring  will  be  slow  in  becoming  under 
stood  :  likewise  slow  in  spreading  and  winning  appre 
ciation.  Many  will  indifferently  push  them  aside; 
many  will  even  resist  them.  Whatever  destroys  the 
beaten  track  —  the  customary  habits  of  thought 
and  of  action  —  people  avoid.  A  Japanese  proverb 
says:  'An  evil  which  has  lasted  two  years  becomes 
a  necessity.' 

"I  bring  riches.  But  our  society  is  schooled  to 
poverty  and  want;  it  is  built  up  on  these.  Especially 
for  the  rich,  their  existence  seems  indispensable. 
Performance  of  the  baser  necessary  functions,  stim- 

402 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ulus  to  progress :  on  this  the  social  usefulness  of  pov 
erty  is  founded;  opportunity  for  the  preaching  of 
contentment,  for  the  giving  of  alms,  so  certain  to 
bring  one  to  heaven  —  these  advantages  of  poverty 
are  becomingly  treasured  by  the  rich.  When  I  tell 
these  rich  men  that  there  can  be  riches  for  all,  this 
disturbs  their  circle,  and  they  reply  indignantly: 
'Sheer  fancy!  Utopia!  Humbug!'  The  poor  and 
wretched  are  not  quite  so  entranced  with  the  ad 
vantages  and  amenities  of  poverty  which  appeal  so 
forcibly  to  the  well-to-do.  And  whenever  they  do 
not  belong  to  the  great  majority  of  the  dully  re 
signed,  they  strive  to  remedy  it  by  planning  a  new 
division  of  the  property  extant,  or  a  change  in  the 
economic  system. 

"You  all  know  what  this  attempt  is  called.  But 
do  not  be  alarmed  —  I  am  not  going  to  preach  social 
ism.  Division  and  control  of  property  belong  to 
another  field.  Here  I  am  speaking  of  the  increase  of 
property :  an  increase  so  infinitely  great  that  it  leaves 
no  place  at  all  for  want. 

"Possibly,  by  application  of  common  sense  and 
justice,  it  might  be  feasible,  even  with  the  materials 
in  our  possession,  to  banish  wretchedness  from  the 
world.  Whether  the  existing  unreason  and  injustice 
would  not  maintain  poverty  even  when  superabun 
dance  were  obtained  —  who  knows?  Certainly  not 
for  any  length  of  time. 

"More  than  ten  years  ago,  the  tidings  of  Luther 
Burbank's  miracles  in  the  cultivation  of  plants  was 
communicated  to  the  world.  This  man  succeeded 
in  cultivating,  on  his  lonely  California  farm,  varie- 

403 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ties  of  vegetables  and  fruits  of  a  size  never  before 
known,  and  he  managed  to  rid  of  its  spines  a  kind  of 
cactus  which  grows  in  the  most  arid  sands  of  the 
desert  and  so  make  it  edible  for  man  and  beast. 

"Does  not  that  sound  like  a  dry  botanical  fact, 
interesting  only  to  a  few  truck-gardeners,  but  sure 
to  leave  the  great  mass  of  the  people  indifferent? 
The  world  did  remain  unmoved:  a  couple  of  illus 
trated  articles  in  family  magazines,  causing  a  few 
readers  to  shake  their  heads  dubiously,  —  '  Straw 
berries  as  big  as  a  child's  head,  stoneless  plums, 
spineless  cactuses  —  remarkable ! '  —  and  then  it 
was  all  forgotten. 

"Would  you  not  have  thought  there  would  be  a 
cry  of  jubilation  from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the 
other:  'What  —  we  can  compel  Nature  to  new  gifts, 
we  can  bring  forth  provender  and  food  in  such  quan 
tities!  We  can  make  the  deserts  and  rocky  soil  to 
provide  us  with  such  cheap  harvests  that  the  evil 
demons,  Hunger  and  Famine,  will  be  banished  for 
ever  from  the  earth ! '  No,  the  readers  of  the  family 
magazines  did  not  see  so  far. 

"Human  art  creating  species,  giant  species, — is 
that  a  mere  trifle?  Are  we  not  on  the  way  to  becom 
ing  gods,  when  we  conquer  the  mysterious  power 
from  which  flows  new  life  in  new  forms? 

"But  wait!  We  are  still  far  distant  from  that. 
Our  moral  will  still  stands  much  below  our  physical 
power.  Our  colleague,  Chlodwig  Helmer,  has  at 
tached  this  reproach  to  the  conquest  of  the  air,  and 
with  equal  justice  this  same  reproach  can  be  made 
to  our  conquest  of  the  hidden  creative  forces  of  the 

404 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

earth.  We  master  the  technical,  the  mechanical, 
the  physical  —  but  where  remains  the  uplift  and  the 
depth  ?  Where  remains  the  exultant  comprehension 
of  the  miracle,  where  the  ecstasy? 

"  Certainly,  those  inventions  are  not  passing  with 
out  any  notice.  Professionals  have  busied  them 
selves  with  them.  Capitalists  have  made  use  of 
them ;  first  in  small  concerns,  then  gradually  in  great 
corporations  —  but  always  for  the  advantage  of  the 
exploiters.  There  are  already  stretches  of  the  Sa 
hara  given  over  to  culture  of  the  Opuntia  cactus; 
there  are  California  vegetable-gardens,  raising  the 
giant  cabbage,  and  a  lively  export  trade  is  carried 
on  with  it,  made  very  difficult,  however,  by  the  cus 
toms  restrictions  hastily  imposed:  the  poor  lands 
must  still  be  foref ended  against  overabundance  — 
they  must  never  be  swamped  with  cheap  foreign 
products.  Divitiae  ante  portas.  .  .  .  An  agrarian 
'  Marseillaise '  will  soon  be  sung  with  a  fiscal  rattle 
of  drums:  'Aux  tarifs,  citoyensl'  " 

"Oh,  dear!"  whispered  Malhof,  who  was  a  warm 
advocate  of  protectionism;  "the  man  comes  out  for 
free  trade.  Is  that  also  to  be  a  part  of  High  Think- 
ing?" 

Helmer  nodded:  "Certainly.  Freedom  belongs  to 
the  highest  concepts." 

"I  also  prize  freedom,  especially  in  love!"  said 
Malhof ; ' '  but  in  the  domain  of  political  economy — ' ' 

Franka  uttered  a  warning:  "Sh!"  She  wanted  to 
hear  the  address. 

The  speaker  went  on  to  say :  — 

"A  strange  error  has  been  holding  and  still  largely 
405 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

holds  men  in  its  toils :  The  belief  that  the  good  things 
of  this  world  are  to  be  had  in  a  constant  and  limited 
quantity ;  he  who  would  have  anything  must  take  it 
from  some  one  else ;  every  man  can  get  more  only  at 
the  expense  of  some  one  else  who  gets  less.  And  thus, 
all  practical  self-seeking,  all  ethical  altruism,  all 
political-economical  wisdom  is  confined  to  the  rear 
rangement,  the  redivision,  the  stealing,  and  the  giv 
ing  away  of  the  whole  existent  mass.  This  error  in 
its  most  primitive  form  engendered  the  battle  for  the 
fertile  soil :  every  consumer  left  dead  was  a  gain  for 
the  hungry  survivors.  At  the  first  beginnings,  the 
belief  that  the  good  things  were  limited  in  quantity 
was  by  no  means  a  heresy  .  .  .  nothing  at  all  was  pro 
duced.  In  later  times,  however,  such  an  increase  in 
the  general  store  of  wealth  has  come  about  that  no 
one  any  longer  would  have  needed  to  starve  had 
not  limited  exchange,  unjust  division,  and  senseless 
waste  assured  the  continuance  of  poverty!  The 
worse  waste  consists  in  the  nations'  spending  two 
thirds  of  their  wealth  in  making  preparations  to 
annihilate  the  other  third. 

"O  Stupidity,  mighty  sovereign,  thy  empire  is 
abysmally  deep!  We  know  well  that  the  common 
possession  has  greatly  increased,  but  still  we  say  to 
ourselves : '  Not  enough,  not  enough ! '  And  still  we 
think  that  property  is  a  thing  which  may  be  looted 
and  must  be  defended.  And  still  we  believe  that  any 
one  can  win  only  in  proportion  as  another  loses! 

"But  now  something  has  been  brought  forth 
amongst  us  which  certainly  is  as  splendid  as  the  con 
quest  of  the  air :  this  which  is  to  be  announced  now 

406 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

by  me  —  this  is  the  secret  concealed  in  my  hand 
like  a  costly  present,  with  which  I  shall  give  you  a 
great  surprise." 

He  took  a  step  nearer  to  the  edge  of  the  platform 
and  held  out  his  right  hand  tightly  closed  toward  the 
audience.  All  eyes  and  all  glasses  were  directed  to 
him,  as  if  they  expected  to  see  some  kind  of  a  won 
der-bird  fly  from  his  fist.  His  face  looked  also  so 
promising,  —  there  was  a  victorious  smile  hovering 
over  his  lips.  It  was  a  typical  American  face :  smooth- 
shaven,  with  firmly  chiseled  features  of  Napoleonic 
cast,  clear  eyes,  and  glistening  teeth.  He  opened  his 
hand  with  a  gesture  of  giving :  — 

"  I  bring  you  the  news  that  we  are  able  to  increase 
and  enlarge  our  common  fund  —  increase  it  infinitely 
beyond  all  our  needs,  beyond  all  our  powers  of  im 
agination.  Rejoice,  all  ye  who  are  here  present,  and 
all  ye  whom  in  the  outside  world  my  words  may 
reach,  among  whom  surely  there  are  many  poor  and 
heavy-laden !  Rejoice  —  we  are  all  winners  of  the 
great  prize!  Some  time  will,  indeed,  elapse  before 
the  prize  is  paid  over,  but,  all  the  same,  the  lucky 
numbers  are  drawn! 

"Let  me  explain:  Wealth  consists  not  only  in  suf 
ficient  quantities  of  victuals,  —  although  it  would 
be  a  fine  result  if  abundance  of  that  should  prevail 
in  all  places,  —  but  it  also  consists  in  a  thousand 
other  products  of  human  labor.  On  the  whole, 
wealth  is  the  product  only  of  labor,  not  of  money. 
Money  is  merely  a  conventional  medium  of  exchange, 
nothing  more.  Its  value  is  regulated  by  the  abun 
dance  or  the  scarcity  of  what  is  on  hand.  Where  there 

407 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  no  production,  and  therefore  nothing  on  hand, 
then  even  the  heaviest  gold-piece  has  no  value.  With 
out  labor  nothing  is  produced;  even  the  planting 
and  the  harvesting  and  the  use  of  the  spineless 
cactus  demand  the  power  of  labor;  and  how  much 
more  of  it  is  needed  for  the  creation  of  a  thousand 
things  which  beautify  and  alleviate  the  lives  of  the 
rich  —  buildings,  works  of  art,  means  of  intercourse, 
materials,  implements,  machinery.  To  have  an 
abundance  of  all  these  things,  what  quantities  of 
work  —  hence  of  working-power  —  is  needed !  Do 
we  possess  a  sufficiency  of  that? 

"Now,  then,"  —  again  he  extended  his  arm  and 
opened  his  hand  as  if  he  were  flinging  something 
into  the  hall,  —  "now,  then,  here  is  another  gift: 
the  message  of  an  increase  of  the  universal  treasure 
of  working  power  —  an  increase  beyond  all  neces 
sities,  beyond  all  our  flights  of  imagination.  What 
we  need  is  a  pitcher  full,  and  what  will  be  at  our 
disposal  is  an  ocean ! 

"This  is  not  the  place  or  the  hour  to  make  physi 
cal  demonstrations  in  order  to  prove  what  I  say. 
You  must  take  my  word  for  it.  In  a  pamphlet,  pre 
pared  for  the  occasion  and  containing  all  the  prac 
tical  details,  you  will  find  the  clear  technical  and 
mathematical  proofs.  A  copy  of  this  pamphlet  will 
be  handed  to  each  one  present.  Here  and  now  I  will 
only  bring  the  fact  to  your  knowledge  that  of  late 
a  new  series  of  discoveries  and  inventions  have  been 
made.  I  will  tell  you  of  these  and  of  the  results  which 
are  expected  to  flow  from  them.  Of  some  of  them 
I  myself  have  been  the  fortunate  originator,  others 

408 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

proceed  from  others.  I  shall  mention  no  names,  but 
merely  explain  the  things  themselves:  —  no,  not 
explain,  —  bring  them  before  you." 

The  speaker  made  a  long  pause  during  which  the 
pamphlet,  printed  in  three  languages,  was  distrib 
uted.  A  loud  buzz  of  remarks  exchanged,  mingled 
with  the  rustle  of  turning  leaves,  arose.  The  excite 
ment  had  been  growing  more  intense  from  the  be 
ginning;  there  was  a  general  expectation  of  some 
thing  solemn,  revolutionary,  joy-conferring. 

This  word  "general"  can  scarcely  be  said  to  in 
clude  the  dyed-in-the-wool  conservatives,  who  were 
present  in  no  small  numbers;  to  such  people  new 
inventions  are  a  torment  —  they  antagonize  and  be 
little  them  as  much  as  possible;  they  are  rilled  with 
distrust  and  depreciation  in  the  presence  of  innova 
tions  —  the  new  jolts ;  the  new  is  dangerous.  Not  as 
yet  perished  from  the  face  of  the  earth  is  the  race  of 
those  who  opposed  the  introduction  of  the  railway 
on  the  ground  that  the  trade  between  Grossme- 
seritsch  and  Jungbunzlau  might  suffer! 

"Now  what  is  he  going  to  bring  us  —  you  prob 
ably  know,  Herr  Helmer." 

Chlodwig  stared  up  as  from  a  dream.  "What? 
who?"  He  had  not  taken  the  drift  of  Baron  Mal- 
hof's  question;  moreover,  he  had  barely  heard  that 
man  yonder  on  the  platform,  so  deeply  had  he  been 
absorbed  all  the  time  in  studying  Franka's  face  and 
his  own  feelings.  He,  who  had  before  been  so  pas 
sionately  interested  in  the  events  of  the  world,  he 
who  in  other  circumstances  would  have  listened 
with  the  keenest  interest  to  the  stimulating  words 

409 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

of  the  young  American,  was  now  so  completely  un 
der  the  spell  of  the  two  passions  —  jealousy  and  love 
—  that  everything  else  sank  into  a  dim  mist.  Franka 
also  was  only  partially  attentive  to  what  was  going 
on.  To  be  sure,  she  had  listened  to  the  conclusions 
of  the  lecturer,  but  in  the  background  of  her  thoughts 
she  was  ceaselessly  engaged  with  the  questions  of 
her  destiny  now  so  imperatively  facing  her,  and  the 
more  the  man  on  the  platform  spoke  of  the  treasures 
of  happiness  beckoning  to  human  society,  the  more 
insistent  within  her  grew  the  demand  that  she  her 
self  should  drain  happiness  in  long  draughts,  and 
bestow  happiness  in  lavish  generosity,  united  to  the 
man  she  loved.  .  .  . 

Again  the  young  inventor  took  up  his  theme :  — 

"Radium  has  been  known  since  the  year  1900. 
Its  marvelous  properties  were  gradually  discovered. 
The  possibility  that  this  element  which,  from  its 
rarity,  at  first  cost  a  hundred  dollars  a  milligram, 
might  be  obtained  in  large  quantities,  dates  from 
yesterday.  This  furnishes  us  with  a  source  of  power 
beyond  comprehension.  A  profusion  of  force  has 
been  placed  at  our  disposal  so  that  all  efficacy  of 
work  can  be  multiplied  a  hundred  fold,  a  thousand 
fold,  a  hundred  thousand  fold. 

"No  figure  need  alarm  us  any  more  when  we  ex 
perience  what  molecular  forces  exist  in  this  radiant 
matter.  Every  molecule  has  minute  particles,  atoms ; 
the  atoms  of  radium  are  thrown  out  with  the  rapid 
ity  of  twenty  thousand  miles  a  second.  Can  you  pic 
ture  to  yourself  the  weight  of  the  impact? 

"  Not  only  can  we  procure  this  in  masses  —  this 
410 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

fabulous  element  —  but  we  can  compress  it.  The 
radium  condenser  has  been  invented.  It  will  be  mere 
child's  play  to  annihilate  in  a  few  minutes  hostile 
fleets  and  armies,  to  destroy  hostile  cities  by  means 
of  packages  of  radium-beams  sent  down  from 
cloudy  altitudes.  Reciprocally,  forty-eight  hours 
after  the  so-called  'opening  of  hostilities*  both  war 
ring  parties  might  vanquish  each  the  other  and 
leave  in  the  enemy's  land  not  a  building  and  not 
a  living  thing." 

The  speaker  paused  and  looked  around.  Then  he 
apostrophized  his  auditors:  — 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  are  certainly  aston 
ished  that  I  here  announce  a  present  of  the  good 
things  of  this  world  and  thereupon  spread  before 
you  such  a  vision  of  horrors.  Merciful  Heaven!  I  do 
not  say  that  these  things  are  to  be,  but  that  you  can 
do  them  if  you  desire.  It  remains  within  your  choice 
and  your  will  to  make  use  of  destructive  possibili 
ties  or  not.  Power  and  force,  a  force  approaching 
almightiness  —  is  that  not  a  wonderful  possession? 
It  would  not  be  an  almighty  power  if  it  had  not  also 
the  capacity  of  working  the  utmost  iniquity  and  the 
limit  of  imbecility.  If  I  could  have  presented  you 
with  Aladdin's  lamp  whose  slaves  carry  out  every 
command,  these  slaves  would  infallibly  murder  you 
if  that  command  were  given  them.  But  I  take  it 
for  granted  that  you  would  utter  quite  different 
wishes. 

"Aye,  the  obedient  Genii  of  the  radium-lamp,  the 
fluorescing  electrons,  can  annihilate,  destroy,  and 
exterminate ;  but  at  our  bidding  they  will  annihilate 

411 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

bacteria,  destroy  the  germs  of  disease,  put  an  end 
to  the  weakness  of  old  age  —  but  they  are  not  going 
to  annihilate  cities  and  useful  lives.  For  the  very 
reason  that  they  are  capable  of  carrying  out  to  its 
ultimate  absurdity  the  aims  of  war,  their  annihilat 
ing  powers  are  not  going  to  have  as  their  offering 
the  crumbling  into  ruins  of  human  society,  but  the 
shattering  of  the  idol,  Mars. 

"  I  have  not  come  to  the  end  of  my  gifts:  The  lat 
est  inventions  include  the  wireless  transmission  of 
the  electric  current;  and  this:  the  electrical  fertiliza 
tion  of  the  soil ;  and  this :  the  direct  transformation 
of  the  heat  of  the  sun  into  mechanical  energy.  We 
have  the  sun-motor.  Have  you  a  suspicion  of  what 
that  signifies?  The  primeval  source  of  all  life,  the 
storehouse  of  all  power,  the  hot  sun-ray  captured  in 
our  pocket  apparatus ! 

"Even  now,  I  have  not  done  with  my  gifts.  This 
time  it  is  only  a  few  trifles,  just  as  on  the  Christmas 
tree  next  some  precious  jewel  hangs  a  little  bag  of 
chocolate  bonbons.  We  are  now  able  to  fly  through 
the  air  almost  as  do  birds.  One  of  my  fellow-country 
men  has  invented  a  contrivance  —  he  calls  it  the 
4  Nautilus ' —  in  which  we  can  glide  through  the 
water  like  a  fish  without  the  slightest  exertion,  with 
torpedo-like  swiftness.  Provided  with  the  Nautilus 
one  can  go  from  Calais  to  Dover  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.  This  has  the  advantage  over  travel  through 
the  air:  one  cannot  fall  into  the  water! 

"Then  —  one  more  bonbon  —  a  dynamic  marvel 
of  an  apparatus  —  the  inventor  has  given  it  the 
name  of '  Talmi  Athlete.'  With  this,  bound  around 

412 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  wrist,  the  weakest  man  can  lift  and  carry  the 
heaviest  burden. 

"Still  another  bonbon!  The  ear-spectacles:  a 
little  instrument  with  which  the  deaf  can  hear  as 
well  as  the  nearsighted  can  see  with  glasses  of  high 
power. 

"And  still  another  and  marvelously  sweet  bon 
bon  —  the  inventor  has  called  it  a  '  Paradise  Air- 
Bath':  a  cabinet  is  filled  with  an  artificially  com 
pounded  atmosphere:  ozone,  compressed  resinous 
air,  tempered  electrical  waves,  pungent  carbonic 
acid,  and  a  hitherto  unknown  material.  Whoever 
enters  this  cabinet  is  permeated  by  that  physical, 
causeless  feeling  of  happiness  such  as  the  mountain- 
climber  experiences  on  the  top  of  the  Alps,  the  child 
at  play,  the  young  person  dancing:  quickened  pulses, 
heightened  heart-action,  expanded  lungs  —  in  short, 
intense  joy  of  life. 

"  But  to  return  to  the  mighty  powers  we  have  con 
quered.  The  question  of  first  importance  is  not  the 
creating  of  new  possibilities  of  enjoyment,  —  the 
well-to-do  already  have  a  sufficiency  of  such  things, 
—  but  rather  the  abolition  of  misery :  the  physical 
moral  atmosphere  of  the  rich  would  also  be  purified 
by  this,  since  at  the  present  time  deleterious  vapors 
of  crime  and  illness  mount  up  into  it  from  the  caves 
of  poverty.  We  have  penetrated  into  the  bowels  of 
the  earth  and  have  brought  to  light  whole  cargoes 
of  radium.  We  have  constructed  the  condenser,  and 
now  we  have  in  our  hands  the  mysterious  and  al 
most  unlimited  creative  power  which  decides  death  '* 
and  life.  —  Everything  on  which  the  death-dealing 

413 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ray  is  directed,  is  irrevocably  lost  —  whether  it  be 
a  colony  of  microbes  or  a  whole  province.  We  can 
accomplish  death  by  wholesale;  we  can  strengthen 
the  development  of  life.  Radium  can  hasten  the 
growth  of  plants  threefold  and  make  them  thrice  as 
large;  it  can  also  retard  growth.  According  to  the 
way  it  is  applied,  the  wonder-element  is  the  awak- 
ener  of  life-energy,  or  cripples  it.  We  shall  be  en 
abled  by  means  of  it  to  lengthen  the  span  of  human 
life ;  we  shall  be  able  —  but  now  I  will  desist.  The 
line  of  consequences  which  follow  a  newly  accom 
plished  advance  is  inconceivable.  The  gold  ingot 
lies  before  you  —  now  go  hence  and  coin  it!" 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

FRANKA   DECIDES  HER  FATE 

THE  next  morning,  Helmer  had  arranged  to  be  at 
Franka's  at  half-past  eleven.  After  the  American's 
address,  she  had  retired,  and  in  bidding  him  good 
night,  she  had  asked  Helmer  to  come  to  see  her  the 
following  morning.  It  was  to  be  the  last  day  of  the 
Rose -Week,  and  she  desired  to  consult  with  him 
about  the  journey  and  other  plans  for  the  immedi 
ate  future.  She  had  long  been  accustomed  to  ask 
Brother  Chlodwig's  advice  at  the  crucial  moments 
of  her  life. 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Helmer  left 
the  house  to  take  his  last  walk  to  his  favorite  spot. 
He  looked  forward  not  without  anxiety  to  the  pro 
mised  call  upon  Franka.  The  self-control  which  it 
cost  him  in  repressing  the  ebullition  of  his  feelings 
would  be  put  to  a  severe  test  once  more.  For  the 
moment,  it  impelled  him  to  seek  that  forest  quietude 
where  he  had  already  spent  so  many  dreamy  hours 
with  Franka's  image  before  his  eyes  ....  But  then 
she  was,  if  not  his  Franka,  at  least  not  as  yet  an 
other's. 

It  was  a  clear  summer  day;  but  in  the  forest, 
shady  and  cool ;  especially  in  that  place  where  Helmer 
was  accustomed  to  retire,  the  impression  of  fresh 
ness  was  intensified  by  the  murmuring  brook  and  by 
a  spring  which  burst  forth  from  a  mossy  rock  and 

415 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

ran  foaming  and  bubbling  down  in  a  series  of  little 
waterfalls.  Through  the  lofty,  thick  tree-tops  the 
sun's  rays  could  scarcely  make  their  way,  but  here 
and  there  gleams  of  light  fell  golden  along  the  tree- 
boles,  making  circlets  on  the  ground  and  kindling 
sparks  in  the  pellucid  waters  of  the  brook  and  the 
spring.  Helmer  selected  a  spot  at  the  edge  of  a  little 
wood-encircled  meadow,  abounding  in  flowers  and 
tall  grasses,  and  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  oak 
tree.  For  a  time  he  let  his  thoughts  run  on  and 
drank  in  the  sweetness  of  the  peaceful  forest.  Then 
he  took  out  his  notebook.  He  felt  the  impulse  to 
write  a  few  verses  which  might  perpetuate  the  mood 
which  this  modest  idyl  had  produced  in  his  mind  — 
a  mood  of  calm  enjoyment  of  nature,  commingled 
with  the  sorrow  of  love's  renunciation. 

But  before  he  had  written  a  line,  he  looked  down 
the  path  by  which  he  had  come  and  saw  a  figure, 
clad  in  white,  approaching.  Was  it  possible?  He 
sprang  up  and  hastened  to  meet  her. 

"Franka!" 

Yes,  it  was  she.  Chance  had  not  brought  her  to 
that  spot.  She  also  had  felt  the  call  of  the  forest, 
and  she  had  seen  Helmer  a  hundred  paces  ahead  of 
her  slowly  strolling  along.  "Let  him  be  my  guide, " 
she  had  said  to  herself,  and  followed  him,  not  di 
minishing  the  distance  between  them.  Now  he 
reached  his  goal ;  she  saw  him  sit  down  in  the  grass 
and  prepare  to  write;  by  this  time,  however,  she 
had  caught  up  with  him,  and  now  they  were  face 
to  face.  She  stretched  out  her  hand  in  greeting. 

"How  fine  that  we  should  meet  here!  We  can 
416 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

have  our  little  consultation  now.    It  is  far  more 
lovely  than  in  the  house." 

Chlodwig  controlled  his  inward  emotion  and 
offered  her  his  arm:  " Shall  we  not  walk  a  little 
farther?  I  will  take  you  to  a  place  where  we  can 
get  a  wonderfully  fine  view." 

" No,  no;  let  us  stay  here;  you  have  chosen  a  per 
fectly  beautiful  spot.  You  sit  down  where  you  were, 
under  that  tree,  and  I  will  find  a  place  near.  ...  I 
just  love  to  sit  in  the  grass." 

He  required  no  second  bidding  and  led  her  to  the 
oak.  There  he  installed  her  where  he  had  been,  so 
that  she  could  lean  her  back  against  the  tree,  and 
he  threw  himself  down  at  full  length  at  her  feet. 
Supporting  himself  on  his  elbow  he  leaned  his  chin 
on  his  hand  and  gazed  up  at  her. 

She  was  dressed  wholly  in  white:  also  the  shoes 
on  her  little  feet  peeping  out  from  under  her  skirt 
were  white.  She  took  off  her  hat.  As  she  had  be 
come  somewhat  heated  by  the  walk  her  cheeks  and 
lips  glowed  and  she  looked  remarkably  young.  Her 
eyes  rested  on  Chlodwig's  face.  How  could  she  have 
ever  regarded  him  as  ugly?  An  expression  of  sorrow 
trembling  about  his  lips  gave  his  features  a  noble 
pathos ;  and  a  gentle  affectionateness  was  expressed 
in  his  eyes  —  certainly  the  reflection  of  his  chief  char 
acteristic  —  goodness.  He  also  had  taken  off  his  hat : 
she  now  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  how  very  thick 
and  wavy  was  the  short-cropped  hair  on  his  head. 

He  was  the  first  to  speak:  "Well,  what  now?  Is 
this  to  be  our  parting  hour  ?  Are  our  ways  to  sepa 
rate  now,  forever?" 

417 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Separate!  ...  for  always?  .  .  .  Certainly  not. 
.  .  .  Helmer,  answer  me  one  question.  Until  now, 
you  have  always  talked  with  me  about  myself, 
never  about  your  own  life,  about  your  'endeavors 
and  wishes.  If  I  did  not  know  you  from  your 
1  Schwingen, '  I  should  scarcely  have  had  a  glimpse 
into  your  soul. " 

"What  do  you  want  to  ask,  Franka?" 

"  It  is  not  a  very  discreet  question,  but  I  want  to 
know  one  thing.  .  .  .  Are  you  .  .  .  have  you  a  ... 
have  you  any  ties,  that  bind  you?" 

"You  mean  a  betrothed,  a  sweetheart?  No,  I 
am  free  from  such  ties." 

"Then  you  are  heart-free?" 

"Did  I  say  that?  For  God's  sake,  let  us  talk 
about  you  again  —  not  about  me.  The  question 
now  concerns  your  fate,  your  future  — " 

Franka  nodded  thoughtfully.  ".Yes,  that  is  the 
question." 

"Then  let  us  talk  about  it.  Shall  you  remain  in 
Lucerne?  Shall  you  wait  here  for  the  return  of  the 
prince,  or  shall  you  go  back  to  Austria,  and  is  he  to 
come  and  find  you  there?  That  would  seem  more 
fitting. " 

"Would  seem  more  fitting  ..."  repeated  Franka 
in  a  low  tone,  abstractedly.  It  was  as  if  she  were 
thinking  of  something  else  and  repeated  mechani 
cally  what  had  been  said,  only  in  order  to  say  some 
thing. 

"Shall  you  go  to  one  of  your  estates?"  continued 
Helmer.  "The  chateau  on  your  Moravian  property, 
for  example,  would  make  a  fine  setting." 

418 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"A  setting  for  what  scene?  Would  you  like  to 
come  to  my  Moravian  property,  too,  Helmer?" 

He  shook  his  head  vigorously.  Franka  pro 
ceeded  :  — 

"In  the  forest  skirting  the  garden,  you  would 
find  places  similar  to  this:  there  also  flows  a  brook; 
there  also  springs  gush  out  of  the  moss-covered 
stones." 

She  pulled  off  her  glove  and  laid  her  slender  white 
hand  on  Chlod wig's  shoulder:  "Will  you  go  with 
me  to  my  Moravian  chateau?" 

He  shrank  under  the  touch.  "I?  I  should  not 
dare  to;  I  could  not." 

"Why  not?"  And  she  increased  the  pressure  on 
his  shoulder. 

There  was  no  help  for  it  —  the  impulse  was 
stronger  than  he.  He  seized  the  dear  hand  and 
kissed  it  passionately  on  the  palm  which  he  pressed 
to  his  face.  Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  leaned 
against  the  tree  under  which  Franka  was  sitting. 
He  looked  down  upon  her  as  she  had  just  before 
looked  down  on  him.  Her  features  betrayed  no 
sign  of  anger  —  on  the  contrary,  they  were  bright 
ened  by  a  gentle  smile. 

"You  ask  why  I  cannot  come,  why  I  dare  not  — 
very  well,  I  will  tell  you.  I  wanted  to  hide  it  from 
you  forever,  but  now  you  must  know  it  —  I  love 
you,  Franka!  I  have  always  loved  you  from  the 
first  hour.  But  always  you  have  been  and  are  the 
unattainable,  the  unapproachable!  Even  if  the  high 
destiny  to  win  you  had  fallen  to  no  one  else,  I  should 
never  have  dared  raise  my  desires  to  your  starry 

419 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

distance.  ...  I  knew  you  would  sometime  be  an 
other's,  and  when  such  a  brilliant  and  worthy  suitor 
drew  near  you,  I  almost  made  it  easier  for  him.  But 
now,  when  Fate  has  actually  brought  to  you  what 
I  had  dreamed  might  be  yours,  I  am  the  prey  of 
wild  jealousy.  ...  If  you  knew  what  I  have  suffered 
during  the  past  days  ...  I  shall  fight  it  down,  I 
shall  certainly  conquer  it,  but  I  must  avoid  your 
presence  and  I  dare  not  be  the  witness  of  his  happy 
love :  —  that  would  drive  me  mad !  Since  this  adora 
tion  which  I  have  kept  for  years  like  a  religion,  so 
to  speak,  has  been  goaded  by  jealousy,  such  a  fire, 
such  a  fierce,  agonizing  craving  has  taken  its  place. 
.  .  .  Oh,  I  am  confessing  too  much.  .  .  .  Why  do  you 
let  me  speak  so,  Franka?  —  Why  do  you  look  at 
me  with  that  strange  smile?  .  .  .  Am  I  ridiculous? 
.  .  .  That  must  not  be !  My  love  is  not  a  funny  thing. 
...  It  comes  to  me  as  too  great,  too  sacred !  When 
we  shall  be  separated,  and  when  years  pass,  it  may 
change  —  and  I  hope  it  will  —  into  warm  friend 
ship  again.  Then  you  can  summon  me  ...  to  your 
royal  court.  ...  I  shall  keep  my  courage.  ...  I  am 
no  sentimental  boy  who  goes  to  destruction  or  com 
mits  suicide  because  of  disappointment  in  love.  I 
have  my  art  and  great  tasks  still  beckon  to  it,  and 
I  still  have  a  mission  to  fulfill.  .  .  .  But  now,  now, 
Franka,  I  am  profoundly  unhappy.  .  .  .  What  self- 
control  I  have  to  exercise,  not  to  seize  you  and  for 
once,  only  once,  hold  you  close  in  my  arms,  only 
once  press  my  lips  ..." 

Franka  stood  up.   Chlodwig  raised  his  hands  im 
ploringly:  — 

420 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"No,  do  not  hasten  away;  be  assured.  ...  I  know 
what  is  due  to  you.  Never  must  you  think  of 
Brother  Chlodwig  with  regret  or  anger. " 

But  Franka  had  no  thought  of  escaping.  With 
the  enigmatical  smile  still  on  her  lips,  she  came  quite 
close  to  him,  flung  both  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
with  a  little  cry  hid  her  face  on  his  heart.  Some 
thing  like  an  electric  shock  went  through  him.  He 
pressed  her  to  his  heart:  — 

"  Franka,  thou  only  one,  thou  great-hearted,  thou 
generous  ..."  he  stammered. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  this  was  a  gift  which  she 
was  offering  him  in  token  of  farewell  —  the  indel 
ible  remembrance  of  a  blissful  moment.  As  he  held 
her  there  in  his  arms,  a  cuckoo's  note  sounded  in 
the  distance.  Franka  raised  her  head  as  if  to  listen ; 
then  her  lover's  lips  found  hers. 

Twelve  times  the  cuckoo  called;  when  he  ceased, 
Franka  released  herself.  She  sank  down  into  her 
former  place  in  the  grass,  and  with  a  gesture  in 
vited  Helmer  to  sit  by  her  side. 

"Now  let  us  talk,  Chlodwig,"  she  said;  "now  let 
us  make  plans  for  the  future!"  And  she  snuggled 
up  close  to  his  shoulder.  "Now  all  doubts  are 
solved :  now  the  world  belongs  to  us  —  this  beauti 
ful,  splendid  world!  ..." 

He  grew  dizzy.  "Franka,  how  am  I  to  under 
stand  this?" 

" How? "  She  laid  her  hand  in  his  —  "That  I  am 
thine  forever." 

"  Franka  —  is  it  possible?  The  Unattainable,  the 
Unapproachable  will  be  my  own,  my  wife?" 

421 


"Aye,  that  she  will. " 

"And  the  prince?" 

"  I  had  not  accepted  his  hand.  I  shall  write  him 
a  line  to-day:  —  ' My  heart  is  not  free ' ! " 

"Because  it  belongs  to  me?" 

"Yes,  to  you,  Chlodwig!" 

"  I  cannot  realize  the  joy  of  it !" 

He  wanted  to  kiss  her  again,  but  she  evaded  it: 
"Only  when  the  cuckoo  calls,"  she  said,  laughing. 
"  Now  we  must  make  our  plans. " 

"Will  you  not  regret  it?  Will  not  Victor  Adolph 
be  in  despair?" 

"I  think  not.  It  will  more  likely  be  a  relief  to 
him;  for  the  sacrifice,  the  hindrances  ...  all  that 
sort  of  thing  has  been  a  burden  to  him,  and  hurt 
my  pride.  I  want  the  gift  of  myself  to  .  .  . " 

"Insure  absolute  happiness,  celestial  bliss,"  in 
terrupted  Helmer,  completing  her  sentence;  "to 
make  the  man  who  receives  this  gift  feel  like  a  king 
and  be  a  Croesus  ..." 

"And  do  you  feel  all  that,  Chlodwig?" 

"That  and  more  besides  than  I  can  tell.  You 
must  know  that  speech  has  no  satisfactory  expres 
sion,  for  our  highest  emotions  —  poets  do  their  best 
to  compass  it,  and  therefore  they  strive  by  means 
of  rhyme  and  rhythm  to  give  pinions  to  speech  — 
but  it  is  all  in  vain. " 

"Still  I  am  going  to  try,"  said  Franka,  "to  de 
scribe  how  I  feel:  without  rhythm  and  without 
rhyme,  perhaps  not  even  very  coherently;  but  you 
will  certainly  understand  me.  It  belongs  to  my 
treasure  of  happiness,  this  knowledge,  that  you 

422 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

understand  and  always  will  understand  what  I  feel 
in  the  deepest  depths  of  my  soul.  And  I  understand 
thee,  my  poet,  my  teacher,  my  beloved.  So  then, 
listen,  thou  who  art  wont  to  speak  in  figures;  with 
two  little  pictures  I  can  give  the  whole  enigma  of  my 
happiness:  a  haven  and  a  chest.  The  haven  is  — " 

The  explanation  was  interrupted:  for  once  more 
and  this  time  much  nearer  the  cuckoo  began  to 
call.  At  the  same  instant  Helmer's  kiss  was  glow 
ing  on  her  mouth.  After  the  third  note,  the  cuckoo 
ceased.  Franka  released  herself,  but  the  complaisant 
bird  began  again,  and  when  he  ceased  the  second 
time,  Helmer  permitted  his  tremulous  but  willing 
prisoner  to  escape  from  his  arms. 

"You  see,  Love  has  far  more  intelligible  means  of 
expression  than  words ;  but  now  go  on  with  what  you 
were  going  to  say:  the  haven  is  — " 

Franka  drew  a  tremulous  sigh  and  passed  her 
hand  over  her  forehead.  "Yes,  I  know  —  the  haven 
is  the  sweet  security  of  being  protected.  —  What 
ever  may  come  —  I  am  safe!" 

"And  the  chest?" 

"Oh,  yes,  the  chest?  —  that  is  as  yet  firmly 
locked  .  .  .  but  I  have  got  the  key.  Treasures  are 
in  it,  that  I  am  sure  of  —  bills  of  exchange,  letters 
of  credit  on  the  great  bank  of  the  future.  We  two 
united !  .  .  .  Just  think  of  all  that  we  can  draw  upon 
it  for  all  the  great  and  little  joys  of  life  even  till  old 
age!  We  who  are  so  congenial,  traveling  together, 
working  together,  furnishing  a  home  together  ..." 

"A  home  which  will  perhaps  embrace  more  than 
two!"  suggested  Helmer. 

423 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"...  Living  together  —  the  joys  and  the  sorrows 
that  when  transformed  into  recollections  we  can 
store  away  in  the  chest.  But  as  yet  I  have  not 
opened  it.  Further  treasures  are  hidden  there  — 
I  do  not  as  yet  know  them  .  .  .  glowing  red  rubies 
which  I  have  never  adorned  myself  with.  Yet,  quite 
lately,  an  inkling  of  it  has  been  disclosed  to  me  by 
one..." 

"One?  Who?"  demanded  Helmer,  with  new- 
awakened  jealousy. 

"Who?"  She  smiled.  Then,  deliberately  and  in 
a  whisper:  "The  cuckoo." 

"Oh,  thou  — "  And  the  answer  was  just  as  if  the 
bird  had  again  uttered  his  enticing  call.  Through 
the  tree-tops  sighed  a  gentle  breeze  which,  laden 
with  the  perfume  of  spicy  herbs  and  ripe  straw 
berries,  fanned  and  cooled  the  glowing  cheeks  of  the 
lovers. 

"Now,  then,"  exclaimed  Franka,  after  she  had 
again  freed  herself,  "let  us  make  our  plans." 

"But  first  let  me  say  something.  .  .  .  Also  in 
figures  —  you  know  my  weakness  —  and  if  at  this 
moment  the  pictures  did  not  rise  up  before  me  ..." 

"Then  you  would  be  no  poet!  But  why  invent 
at  a  moment  when  reality  is  so  super-earthly?" 

"Super-earthly  certainly,  but  not  super-cosmic. 
Whoever  feels  and  makes  any  one  feel  so  happy,  so 
superhuman,  works  in  the  service  of  a  cosmic  fac 
tory.  There  a  magnificent  material  is  woven  from 
star  to  star,  from  eternity  to  eternity  out  of  fine 
glittering  threads.  These  threads  are  called  ecsta 
sies,  pleasures,  joys,  the  very  greatest  and  likewise 

424 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

the  very  tiniest  joys.  Every  living  thing  experienc 
ing  this  serves  as  a  shuttle  for  this  loom." 

"And  what  becomes  of  the  material,  oh,  my 
metaphorical  poet?" 

"God  makes  his  royal  mantle  out  of  it." 

' '  Lovely ! ' '  exclaimed  Franka.  ' '  Still, ' '  she  added, 
shaking  her  head  gently;  "you  employ  very  old  ma 
terial  for  hewing  your  images :  God  as  king  —  in  that 
figure  I  do  not  recognize  my  bold  modern  thinker." 

"Solid  material  is  required  for  hewing  images. 
The  new  thoughts  are  for  the  most  part  as  yet  lack 
ing  in  consistency,  gaseous,  so  to  speak ;  one  cannot 
make  any  images  out  of  them.  But,  dearest,  let  us 
not  talk  any  more  about  generalities  now,  when  we 
are  breathing  in  the  midst  of  such  concrete  beauty 
touching  us  both ;  at  this  moment  when  everything 
lying  outside  of  '  thee  and  me '  sinks  into  nothingness. 
For  heaven's  sake,  let  us  not  indulge  in  subtleties 
and  let  us  not  be  deep!  We  have  the  right  to  lose 
ourselves  in  the  regions  of  the  higher  folly !  We  have 
the  still  higher  right  to  be  —  silent!" 

"I  will  not  be  silent,"  cried  Franka.  "I  must 
shout  it  out  that  I  am  happy,  happy,  happy!"  And 
in  saying  this  she  flung  her  arms  up  into  the  air.  "Oh 
how  many  times  have  I  heard  that  word,  read  it, 
spoken  it,  and  —  to-day,  for  the  first  time,  I  know 
what  it  means." 

Approaching  voices  and  steps  were  heard.  Their 
moment  of  blessed  solitude  was  past. 

Franka  hastily  snatched  up  her  hat  from  the 
ground.  "Come,  let  us  go  before  these  odious  per 
sons  find  us  here." 

425 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"  May  the  cuckoo  fly  off  with  them ! "  cried  Helmer 
in  vexation. 

"But,  Chlodwig,"  exclaimed  Franka  reproach 
fully,  "how  can  you  put  such  a  burden  on  our  be 
loved  bird?" 

"You  are  right!   Holy  cuckoo,  forgive  me!" 

"  Now,  you  know,  holiness  is  not  the  right  term  for 
him.  I  have  heard  many  things  to  his  prejudice  .  .  . 
he  is  said  to  have  no  family  sentiment  ..." 

"Oh,  there,  he  does  not  need  Philistine  virtues. 
He  is  a  kind  of  forest  magician  and  consequently 
superior  to  civil  morals." 

"Just  as  a  poet  laureate  is  superior  to  provincial 
rulers?" 

Thus  laughing  and  jesting,  they  walked  for  a  while 
side  by  side ;  but  once  their  eyes  met,  and  a  sudden 
earnestness  spread  over  their  features ;  on  their  .si 
lent  lips  trembled  something  akin  to  pain;  they 
had  simultaneously  discovered  that  between  them 
hovered  something  like  the  spirit  of  consecration, 
awe-inspiring,  something  like  an  emanation  from  the 
mystical  source  of  being :  —  Love !  —  something  un 
der  whose  breath  jests  and  laughter  seem  as  inap 
propriate  as  under  the  breath  of  that  other  solemn 
mystery  —  Death.  What  they  had  seen  in  each 
other's  eyes  permeated  them  with  a  thrill  of  devo 
tion,  and  they  walked  for  a  long  distance  in  silence; 
yet  by  their  arms  they  still  exchanged  the  pressure 
significant  of  affection. 

Only  when  their  path  turned  into  a  frequented 
place  in  Lucerne  was  this  magic  mood  dispelled. 
They  came  to  an  aeroplane-hangar. 

426 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

Franka  paused :  — 

"Chlodwig,  grant  me  one  wish  —  let  us  take  a 
little  air-trip  together.  I  have  never  been  in  an 
aeroplane  and  I  should  like  to  make  my  first  ascent 
with  you;  and  to-day  especially  .  .  .  this  very  mo 
ment.  ...  I  feel  a  great  thirst  for  the  heights,  don't 
you?" 

"I?  No.  My  most  burning  thirst  you  have  —  I 
mean  the  cuckoo  has  —  quenched !  But  if  it  would 
give  you  a  pleasure  —  I  am  ready  for  it.  Let  us 
fly!" 

He  made  the  arrangements  with  one  of  the  pilots, 
and  a  few  moments  later  the  machine  was  speeding 
up  with  its  passengers  into  the  air.  Franka  at  that 
moment  experienced  a  powerful  shock  rather  psy 
chical  then  physical.  Set  free  from  the  ground, 
hovering  free,  with  reasonable  velocity  their  aero 
plane  swept  up  at  a  height  of  about  ten  metres.  It 
was  a  quite  peculiar  new  sensation.  Suddenly,  how 
ever,  the  machine  began  to  mount  and  mount;  not 
perpendicularly,  but  still  preserving  its  forward 
motion,  until  it  had  reached  a  height  of  some  hun 
dred  metres.  Franka  could  not  repress  a  cry.  She 
had  the  impression  that  the  aeroplane  remained  still 
while  everything  else  was  sinking  down.  Into  what 
depths  fell  the  earth !  Ever  wider  became  the  view 
of  the  country  gliding  away  beneath  them,  and  ever 
tinier  little  points  —  now  trees,  houses,  like  toys; 
men,  like  ants  —  juggled  together  on  it. 

Still  higher  went  their  flight.  The  mountains 
shrunk  into  flatness  and  finally  everything  seemed  to 
be  a  plain  with  black  streaks  —  the  forests ;  a  white 

427 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

pool  —  the  lake;  and  winding  ribbons  —  the  roads. 
And  as  Franka  was  not  far-sighted,  the  whole  pic 
ture  swam  in  her  vision  into  an  empty  gray  plain. 
She  recalled  her  dream  and  that  terrifying  feeling 
of  being  alone  in  space.  But  in  sooth,  she  was  not 
alone:  her  beloved  was  by  her  side. 

"Put  your  arm  around  me,"  she  besought  him. 
And  as  soon  as  that  firm  strong  support  went 
obliquely  down  from  her  shoulder  embracing  her 
waist,  it  seemed  to  her  exactly  as  in  that  dream  — 
the  blessed  sense  of  security  that  one  is  held  and 
protected  .  .  .  only  this  time  with  the  difference,  that 
she  now  knew  who  that  one  was,  and  she  thanked 
Heaven  that  it  was  this  one  and  not  the  other.  She 
closed  her  eyes  and  bent  her  head  back.  She  looked 
so  pale  that  Chlodwig  was  alarmed,  and  bade  the 
pilot  to  glide  down  and  land  them.  Then  Franka 
opened  her  eyes :  — 

"No,  no,  not  yet  —  it  is  splendid!" 

Her  panic  had  vanished,  and  the  peculiar  fascinat 
ing  intoxication  of  the  flight  through  the  upper  air 
had  seized  her.  "Do  not  land  yet!  Tell  him  to  go 
in  a  wave-motion  —  up,  down,  up  —  down  so  that 
I  may  feel  the  sensation  of  flying,  that  I  may  know 
that  we  are  flying." 

"Aren't  you  frightened,  my  love,  —  you  are  so 
pale—" 

"No,  not  afraid  —  only  this  new  experience  is  so 
surprising,  so  overpowering  —  it  is  the  fulfillment  of 
a  dream.  Is  n't  it  delightful?" 

"Oh,  yes,  the  human  race  might,  indeed,  be  proud 
of  the  heights  which  it  has  attained,  if  at  the  same 

428 


WHEN   THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

time  it  had  not  remained  so  abject!    Yet  have  pa 
tience  —  our  watchword  still  is  —  '  Excelsior!" 

After  another  quarter  of  an  hour,  in  which  they 
had  their  heart's  content  of  mounting  and  descend 
ing,  of  gliding  and  curving,  the  pilot  directed  his 
aerial  car  to  the  landing-place  and  the  two  happy 
passengers  dismounted. 

They  proceeded  to  the  Rose-Palace  on  foot.  Frau 
Eleonore  came  to  meet  them,  as  they  walked  along 
the  terrace. 

"At  last!"  she  exclaimed;  " I  was  beginning  to  be 
concerned  about  you  —  lest  something  had  hap 
pened,  Franka." 

"I  can't  deny  that  something  has  happened  to 
me!" 

"In  Heaven's  name,  what?" 

"You  will  find  out  soon  enough.  Let  us  go  up!" 

She  relinquished  Helmer's  arm  and  took  Frau 
Eleonore's  instead.  "Good-bye  for  now,  Chlodwig; 
we  shall  meet  at  luncheon.  I  am  going  to  write  Prince 
Victor  Adolph  now.  Come,  Eleonore!"  And  she 
pulled  her  companion  toward  the  entrance. 

Helmer  bowed  and  went  off  in  another  direction. 

As  soon  as  she  reached  her  salon,  Franka  threw 
her  hat  and  parasol  down  and  with  a  long,  long 
breath  sank  into  an  easy-chair. 

Frau  Eleonore  took  her  place  facing  her. 

"  Dear  Franka,  forgive  me,  but  "  —  she  was  at  a 
loss  for  the  right  words  —  "I  know  you  do  not  like 
me  to  be  preaching  .  .  .  but  don't  you  think  that 
such  walks  with  Herr  Helmer.  ...  As  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  it  is  nothing  ...  I  know  what  an  old 

429 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

harmless  friendship  means  .  .  .  but  don't  you  think 
that  perhaps  the  prince.  .  ." 

"Oh,  thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  the  prince  — 
I  must  write  to  him.  Has  any  telegram  come  for 
me?" 

"No,  but  here  is  a  letter  from  the  Sielenburg." 

Franka  took  the  letter  and  tore  open  the  enve 
lope.  "From  Tante  Albertine  ...  I  can't  make  out 
the  wriggly  handwriting  very  well.  Please  read  the 
letter  for  me,  Eleonore,  will  you?" 

"Willingly.  But  what  I  said  just  now  .  .  .  you 
are  not  vexed  with  me,  are  you?" 

"Really,  I  did  not  notice  what  you  said  .  .  ." 

"You  seem  very  much  disturbed.  You  have  not 
told  me  as  yet  what  happened  to  you." 

"Later,  later  —  please  read  the  letter  first.  Let 
us  see  what  the  good  auntie  has  to  say." 

Frau  Eleonore  read :  — 

MY  DEAR  CHILD! 

I  have  only  just  returned  to  the  dear  old  Sielenburg, 
but  I  sit  down  to  write  you  a  few  lines  to  tell  you  that  we 
made  the  journey  without  mishap.  Dear  Adele  is  very 
much  done  up,  to  be  sure,  and  quite  cross;  the  trip  did 
not  gratify  her  at  all.  I,  too,  am  much  pleased  to  be  at 
home  again.  Here  we  get  so  much  of  what  we  missed 
while  away;  for  instance,  respectful  treatment  by  people. 
Here  we  are  addressed  with  proper  terms  once  again: 
"Kiss  your  hand,"  or,  "Saving  your  grace"  —  that  to 
Adele  —  or,  "at  your  command,"  while  the  Swiss  are  so 
unmannerly;  they  called  us  "Madam,"  and  on  the  train 
one  conductor  spoke  to  me  as  "a  woman"!  It  was,  in 
deed,  out  of  politeness;  he  pushed  a  passenger  to  one  side, 
saying,  "Let  the  woman  pass."  I  wanted  to  tell  him  that 

430 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

I  was  nothing  of  the  sort,  but  one  can't  enter  into  conver 
sation  with  such  clowns. 

We  had  to  stay  another  day  after  our  "P.P.C."  call  on 
you  —  Coriolan  got  the  wrong  tickets,  and  so  we  heard 
Helmer  after  all.  It  was  so  strange  to  see  Uncle  Eduard's 
former  secretary  up  there  among  the  celebrities.  He  was 
so  quiet  at  the  Sielenburg,  as  if  he  could  not  count  up  to 
five.  I  could  not  make  out  what  he  said  —  it  was  all  such 
a  medley  —  exaggerated.  He  was  always  eccentric.  He 
even  presumed  to  cast  his  eyes  on  you.  Who  knows  how 
it  would  have  ended  if  I  had  not  —  for  your  advantage, 
you  must  know  —  upset  his  calculations  and  informed 
Uncle  Eduard  in  good  time.  I  am  proud  of  that  even  to 
day.  Take  care  that  he  does  not  try  his  little  game  again ; 
it  might  injure  you  with  the  prince. 

Frau  Eleonore  stopped  her  reading  —  "I  agree 
with  Fraulein  Albertine  about  that." 

Franka  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  annoyance: 
—  "You  must  not  be  proud  of  that." 

Frau  Eleonore  went  on  with  the  letter:  — 

You  ought  to  hear  Cousin  Coriolan's  opinion  of  Hel 
mer  —  for  he  has  a  correct  judgment  and  is  a  gentleman 
through  and  through.  He  was  not  at  all  enthusiastic  over 
our  stay  at  Lucerne;  he  declares  he  will  never  again  be 
induced  to  take  such  an  exotic  journey.  Really,  I  had  a 
pretty  good  time;  it  was  such  a  complete  change;  but  I 
shall  doubly  enjoy  the  quiet  here.  What  pleased  me  most 
in  Lucerne  was  the  conquest  you  made.  Be  very  wise  .  .  . 

"  Is  there  any  more  of  that?"  interrupted  Franka. 

"Four  pages  more." 

"Then  we  will  leave  it  until  by  and  by:  Now  I 
am  going  to  write  to  the  prince.  .  .  .  Eleonore,  on 
the  whole,  I  prefer  to  tell  you  now:  I  am  betrothed." 

43i 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"Oh,  you  are?"  exclaimed  Frau  Eleonore,  her 
face  radiant  with  joy.  "And  why  did  you  delay 
telling  me  till  now?  What  good  fortune!  Only  it  is 
a  shame  that  he  had  to  go  away." 

"My  dear  friend!  You  are  under  a  wrong  im 
pression.  Victor  Adolph  is  not  my  betrothed  .  .  .  ' 

" Not  the  prince!"  Her  eyes  grew  gloomy,  "Who 
then?" 

"It  is  not  very  hard  to  guess." 

It  certainly  was  not  difficult,  and  Frau  Eleonore 
was  well  aware  who  the  fortunate  suitor  was.  In 
spite  of  the  disappointment  which  it  brought  her, 
she  was  too  clever,  and  also  too  well  disposed  to 
Franka  to  betray  any  dissatisfaction.  To  be  sure, 
her  dream  of  having  the  position  of  a  lady-in-waiting 
at  court  was  dispelled,  but  she  concealed  her  dis 
appointment:  —  "Chlodwig  Helmer — is  it,  then?" 
she  said.  "Well,  if  you  love  him,  Franka,  I  wish 
you  joy  with  all  my  heart." 

"Yes,  I  love  him." 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  two  ladies  went  down  to 
the  Toker  luncheon.  Franka  had  in  the  mean  time 
written  the  letter  to  Victor  Adolph :  —  a  perfectly 
candid  confession  that  she  had  already  given  her 
heart  to  another  man,  and,  moreover,  her  assurance 
that  she  perfectly  well  realized  what  obstacles  would 
have  been  put  in  the  way  of  his  life-work  and  his 
lofty  position  if  she  had  accepted  his  impulsive  and 
far  too  unpremeditated  offer. 

Helmer  came  forward  to  meet  Franka  as  she  en 
tered  the  dining-room.  The  separation  which  had 

432 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

lasted  at  the  most  about  an  hour  seemed  to  them 
both  frightfully  long,  and  the  joy  of  seeing  each  other 
again  accelerated  the  beating  of  their  hearts.  They 
sat  at  table  side  by  side  as  usual.  After  the  last 
course,  Helmer  asked  Franka  whether  they  should 
keep  their  happiness  to  themselves  for  a  while,  or 
communicate  the  news  to  the  Brotherhood  of  the 
Rose.  "Oh,  let  them  know  about  it!  I  should  like 
to  have  it  shouted  over  the  housetops!" 

Helmer  stood  up  and  tapped  on  his  glass. 

' ' Hear,  hear ! ' '  cried  Toker.  "In  spite  of  the  regu 
lation  forbidding  formal  toasts  at  this  table,  our 
poet  of  the  pinions  seems  desirous  to  offer  some  one's 
health.  Well,  to-day  is  our  last  meeting  —  give  your 
eloquence  full  rein,  Mr.  Helmer." 

"I  do  not  intend  to  make  a  speech.  What  you 
are  going  to  hear  from  me,  Mr.  Toker  and  Miss 
Toker,  and  all  of  you,  brethren  and  sisters  under  the 
token  of  the  Rose,  is  merely  a  bit  of  family  news.  I 
have  the  feeling  that  we  all,  during  this  delectable 
week,  have  become  a  sort  of  happy  family,  and  there 
fore  I  hope  for  your  interest  when  I  tell  you  that 
this  morning  Franka  Garlett  and  I  were  betrothed." 

Gwendoline  rushed  to  Franka  and  gave  her  a  tu 
multuous  embrace.  After  the  confusion  of  the  uni 
versal  congratulations  had  somewhat  subsided, Toker 
tapped  three  times  on  the  table  with  the  handle  of 
his  knife  in  order  to  obtain  a  hearing :  — 

"Under  such  extraordinary  circumstances  it  is 
not  only  permitted,  but  it  is  obligatory  upon  us  to 
offer  a  toast.  Let  us  greet  it  as  a  good  omen  that 
in  our  serious  community,  gathered  to  enlarge  the 

433 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

general  realm  of  High  Thinking  and  thence  of  human 
welfare,  two  such  noble  hearts  have  joined  to  win 
personal  happiness  by  their  love.  Let  us  greet  this 
as  an  omen  for  the  development  of  the  coming  race : 
if  the  custom  obtain  that  the  champions  of  the  most 
brilliant  ideas,  the  possessors  of  the  greatest  talents, 
in  a  word,  the  most  splendid  specimens  of  the  human 
race,  come  together  as  here,  and  fall  in  love,  as  our 
highly  honored  new  couple  have  done,  and  if  they,  as 
we  hope  even  for  this  same  bridal  pair,  increase  and 
multiply,  then,  after  a  few  more  generations,  even 
more  fortunate  results  of  careful  breeding  will  be 
seen  than  our  friend  Luther  Burbank  has  obtained 
with  his  gigantic  cabbages.  Therefore,  proceed, 
Chlodwig  and  Franka,  and  found  a  home.  That  is, 
after  all,  the  most  beautiful  and  most  satisfying 
happiness  to  be  found  on  earth  —  however  far  and 
high  our  thoughts  may  soar  and  our  exploits  may  be 
carried,  let  us  provide  a  warm,  safe  place  of  calm 
ness  and  of  love  to  which  we  are  all  entitled. 

"We  men  have  in  these  days  imitated  the  most 
magnificent  prerogative  of  the  birds  —  the  art  of 
flight.  But  let  us  never  forget  that  other  example 
which  these  masters  of  heights  and  distances  give 
us  —  the  nest!" 


FINALE 

ON  this  final  evening  of  the  Rose- Festival,  all  the 
guests  were  assembled  on  the  platform,  the  host  in 
their  midst.  It  had  been  determined  that  on  this 
last  evening  there  should  be  no  long  addresses  by 
individual  speakers,  but  that  all  the  members  of  the 
Rose  Order,  whether  their  voices  had  been  heard 
during  any  of  the  sessions  or  not,  should  make  brief 
speeches  to  the  audience:  speeches  in  which,  if  pos 
sible,  by  a  few  short  sentences,  each  individual 
should  declare  what  was  his  loftiest  aim  in  life  and 
what  he  would  most  of  all  wish  to  have  carried  away 
as  a  message  to  his  fellow-men  from  that  far-sound 
ing  tribune.  John  Toker  announced  his  programme 
to  the  public  and  added :  — 

"We  regard  this  last  evening  of  ours  as  a  special 
opportunity  for  us  to  communicate  with  the  outside 
world  and  to  grasp  in  compact  form  the  things  that 
have  been  revealed  to  us  during  this  Rose-Week. 

"I  will  use  this  opportunity  to  comment  on  what 
we  heard  yesterday  from  the  mouth  of  my  young 
fellow-countryman.  He  spread  out  before  us  a  whole 
cargo  of  precious  gifts ;  he  handed  us  a  gigantic  ingot 
of  gold  and  said:  'Go  hence  and  coin  it.' 

"Now  the  question  arises:  'How?'  Above  all,  a 
new  valuation  is  required  for  the  new  coins  which 
are  to  be  minted.  The  whole  system,  the  whole  prin 
ciple  on  which  the  social  life  of  the  present  time  is 

435 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

built  up,  must  be  invalidated  so  as  to  give  place  to 
another  system,  another  principle.  Economical  and 
political  intercourse  of  men  with  one  another  at  the 
present  time  still  rest  on  robbery,  imposture,  fraud, 
distrust,  unscrupulous  extermination  of  competitors, 
and  all  this  supported  by  the  spirit  of  envy,  which 
runs  through  the  whole  gamut  from  ill  will  to  hatred. 
And  do  you  know  what  we  need  in  order  to  coin  the 
new  currency?  —  the  spirit  of  good  will.  And  that 
is  certain  to  come.  It  will  not  create  the  new  social 
intercourse,  but  it  will  grow  out  of  the  soil  of  the 
changed  circumstances,  as  ill  will  flourishes  in  the 
morass  of  to-day. 

"Inestimable  is  what  has  been  given  to  mankind 
by  the  unlimited  control  of  the  powers  of  nature, 
creating  wealth  and  labor ;  all  the  forces  which  may 
be  spent  in  doing  mutual  harm,  in  mutual  attack 
and  defense,  in  deceiving,  in  betraying,  in  robbing, 
in  destroying  one  another  —  all  these  forces  are 
now  to  be  free  for  the  common  task  of  coining  that 
ingot  of  gold  into  current  coin. 

"  It  will  be  no  small  trouble,  no  brief  work,  to  re 
organize  the  world  on  this  quite  changed  principle. 
Stupidity,  routine,  and  malignity  will  resist  for  a  long 
time;  but  just  as  radium  can  annihilate  microbes, 
so  will  the  radiant  element  of  the  human  spirit, 
aroused  to  comprehension,  annihilate  the  microbes 
of  malignity.  We  shall  become  healthy,  physically 
and  spiritually. 

"I  am  glad  that  the  awakening  call,  the  shout 
of  the  herald,  rings  forth  from  here.  The  tidings  of 
triumph  are  to  sound  back  from  the  victorious  van ; 

436 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

a  vast  new  country  is  ours;  we  must  make  it  fertile; 
let  us  take  possession! 

"  But  to  do  so,  the  old  methods  and  the  old  uten 
sils  are  useless ;  we  must  first  train  the  whole  race  till 
it  is  fit  for  its  new  destiny.  Practical  work  must  be 
expanded  in  this  direction.  May  all  those  to  whom 
our  summons  comes,  clearly  ringing,  gird  their  loins 
to  take  hold  of  this  work!  Domestic  colonization, 
garden-cities,  hygiene  along  the  whole  line,  exter 
mination  of  the  last  vestige  of  illiteracy.  And  then, 
high  schools  will  be  established  for  the  nurture  of 
High  Thinking  and  world-journals  will  be  founded 
for  its  propaganda.  And  temples  will  be  built  dedi 
cated  to  the  cult  of  good  will. 

"The  problem  must  be  worked  out  intensively, 
strenuously.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  from  here  and 
there  more  ideas  fly  forth;  ideas  are  all  right,  for 
they  are  the  seed  from  which  things  spring  —  but 
actually,  what  now  opens  up  before  us  consists  al 
ready  in  things,  and  they  demand  to  be  executed: 
above  all,  they  want  to  be  grasped.  I  intend  to  seize 
upon  them:  as  soon  as  I  reach  home,  I  intend  to 
take  measures  to  found  the  free  academy  of  High 
Thinking.  May  this  become  the  mint  which  my 
young  friend  requires  for  the  store  of  gold  which  he 
displayed  before  our  eyes. 

"And  now  shall  the  knights  of  my  Wartburg  have 
their  chance  to  speak.  Let  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach 
begin  —  I  mean  you,  Mr.  Helmer." 

Chlodwig  stepped  forward :  — 

"I  should  like  once  more  to  sum  up  in  a  single 
sentence  —  if  possible  in  a  single  word  —  the  sub- 

437 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

stance  of  my  whole  poetic  dream,  of  my  whole  vision 
of  the  future.  But  here  I  find  an  obstacle  in  the 
limitations  of  language,  for  it  has  as  yet  no  words 
for  the  coming  things  that  now  only  project  their 
shadows  and  are  attainable  only  by  longing  and  by 
forebodings.  The  word  always  comes  into  existence 
after  the  thing.  The  thing  follows  the  conception, 
and  this  in  turn  is  followed  by  the  expression.  For 
example  —  first  there  had  to  be  a  knight  and  the 
especial  nature  of  his  bearing  and  of  his  sentiments 
had  to  be  conceived  before  the  term  '  knightly '  was 
adopted. 

"And  thus  before  my  vision  stands  the  coming 
man  —  the  man  of  the  heights  —  der  Hohenmensch 
—  whose  qualities  correspond  to  the  magnificent 
achievements  which  literally  lift  him  above  the 
clouds.  What  will  be  his  characteristic  quality? 
The  term  for  it  does  not  as  yet  exist.  For  it  will  not 
concern  any  peculiar  quality  already  known  to  us, 
but  rather  a  combination  of  qualities  to  which  will 
be  added  possibly  one  never  before  discovered:  the 
new  combination  will  grow  into  a  concept  and  the 
concept  will  be  grasped  in  one  word  —  a  word  which 
will  be  as  current  among  our  descendants  and  as 
clear  to  them  as  the  word  'knightly'  is  to  us.  I 
recently  spoke  of  'goodness.'  This  word,  as  it  is 
used  among  us,  is  far  from  expressing  what  my  mind 
conceives  of  it.  It  is  as  yet,  too,  incomposite.  I 
should  want  to  command  a  term  in  which,  besides 
'  goodness, '  much  else  would  be  understood  —  dis 
tinction,  gentleness,  courage,  good  will,  force,  mag 
nanimity  —  all  in  combination;  and,  moreover,  that 

438 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

soul-material  which  will  come  into  activity  by  the 
new  impulses  of  the  Age  of  Flying  —  this  is  to  be  the 
characteristic  quality  of  the  ideal  man  of  the  future, 
but  what  its  name  will  be,  that  we  do  not  know. 

"How  the  ideals  of  spiritual  greatness  change 
may  be  seen  in  a  single  example:  Vico,  the  founder 
of  the  philosophy  of  history,  who  wrote  at  the  end 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  —  hence  not  so  very 
long  ago,  —  thus  described  the  heroes :  '  They  were 
to  the  highest  degree  rough,  wild,  limited  in  in 
telligence,  but  possessing  enormous  power  of  imag 
ination  and  the  liveliest  passionateness ;  as  a  conse 
quence  of  these  qualities  they  had  to  be  barbarous, 
cruel,  wild,  proud,  difficult  to  deal  with. ' 

"That  was  the  picture  of  hero-greatness  which 
awakened  the  admiration  of  earlier  times.  This 
admiration  has  not  entirely  died  out,  but  it  is  fading 
away,  sinking  out  of  sight,  slowly  changing  into 
detestation.  Much  that  is  barbarous  still  lives 
amongst  us,  but  we  try  to  deny  it.  The  word  '  bar 
barous'  has  become  a  term  of  reproach.  The  man 
who  knows  no  pity  does  not  seem  to  us  worthy  of 
regard;  the  wider  the  range  of  his  commiseration, 
the  nobler  is  his  heart.  The  good  will  of  a  noble 
soul  extends  even  to  the  dumb  creation.  He  who 
cannot  love  a  good,  faithful  dog  is  not  a  worthy 
man,  and  whoever  is  cruel  to  an  animal  —  how  can  I 
express  my  detestation  of  him?  —  well,  I  will  quote 
Hermann  Bahr  —  'Such  a  person,  whoever  he  be, 
I  cannot  regard  as  my  kind.'  In  the  third  'King 
dom'  to  which  our  aspirations  are  soaring,  there  is 
no  room  for  barbarism. 

439 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

"And  now,  if  as  our  host  desires,  I  must  sum  up 
in  one  phrase  all  that  I  have  brought  to  you  here, 
then  I  say :  —  There  is  no  High  Thinking  without 
likewise  Kind  Thinking." 

"The  man  has  a  touch  of  the  feminine  in  his  make 
up,"  remarked  some  one  in  the  audience,  disap 
provingly. 

The  next  speaker  was  Franka  Garlett.  With  a 
smiling  face,  betraying  the  gleam  of  her  new  happi 
ness,  she  stepped  forward:  "You  young  girls,  listen 
to  me!"  she  began.  "You  must  not  be  alarmed, 
because  I  repeat  my  appeal  to  you,  that  I  am  going 
to  repeat  my  entire  address.  No,  I  am  not  going 
even  to  make  a  resum6  of  it,  but  I  am  going  to  say 
something  which  will  interest  all  girls,  all,  all !  There 
is  a  magic  word  which  will  not  find  one  of  you  in 
different:  if  it  is  spoken  you  must  listen  —  joyfully 
or  woefully,  with  curiosity  or  with  yearning,  but 
never  with  indifference  .  .  .  and  yet  it  is  something 
quite  simple,  quite  commonplace.  Truly,  the  one 
whom  it  concerns  will  find  it  unique,  will  find  it 
all-important,  something  world-convulsing  —  that 
world  which  is  our  own  little  Ego.  This  thing  has 
happened  to  me  this  morning  —  and  I  cannot  help 
myself  —  it  fills  me  so  —  I  must  tell  you,  ye  sisters 
of  mine:  —  I  am  betrothed. " 

A  flutter  went  through  the  hall.  Among  the  in 
articulate  words  also  rang  out  distinctly,  "Con 
gratulations!"  and  the  question  —  "To  whom?" 

Franka's  face  grew  still  more  animated:  "Thanks 
for  the  congratulations,  and,  if  I  heard  correctly, 
some  one  asked  'To  whom?'  —  a  quite  justifiable 

440 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

curiosity:  in  such  family  chronicles  we  must  find 
names.  My  chosen  husband  is  the  poet  of  '  Schwin- 
gen '  —  Chlodwig  Helmer.  And  since  he,  as  he  told 
you  a  moment  ago,  has  a  kind  feeling  for  every 
worthy  little  beastie,  he  will  assuredly  be  kind  to 
me." 

The  speaker's  gayety  communicated  itself  to  the 
audience,  and  a  wave  of  laughter  swept  over  the 
hall.  But  now  her  features  took  on  a  serious  ex 
pression  and  in  altered  voice  she  went  on:  —  "But 
here  another  question  demands  to  be  answered: 
How  is  it  that  I  venture  to  speak  of  my  own  little 
private  affairs  from  this  tribune  where  such  lofty 
problems  have  been  treated  and  when  a  whole  world 
is  listening  to  me?  I  justify  myself  thus:  On  this 
tribune  I  have  advised  the  young  persons  of  my  own 
sex  to  use  their  brains,  to  learn,  to  see  clearly  in 
scientific,  social,  and  political  matters;  even  to  take 
part  in  public  affairs,  and  this  has  certainly  awak 
ened  in  many  minds  the  notion  that  woman,  in  do 
ing  so,  would  suffer  a  loss  in  her  affections  and  in 
her  family  relations;  that  those  young  girls  who 
might  devote  themselves  to  studies  and  callings 
hitherto  reserved  for  men  alone,  might  be  lost  for 
love  and  domestic  happiness.  On  this  very  spot 
from  which  I  have  disseminated  my  teachings,  and 
before  the  very  same  listening  world-audience,  I  now 
come  forward  to  combat  that  erroneous  notion;  not 
in  words,  but  as  a  living  witness.  The  doctrine  that 
'You  are  in  the  world  to  share  in  all  thought'  can 
not  be  so  very  perilous  since  the  exponent  of  it 
stands  here,  happily  betrothed. " 

441 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

She  bowed  and  went  back  to  her  seat,  heartily 
cheered  by  the  audience. 

Now,  one  after  the  other,  brief  parting  farewell 
addresses  were  made  and  each  speaker  gave  preg 
nant  expression  to  his  favorite  and  leading  thought. 
All  these  thoughts,  without  exception,  were  turned 
by  different  ways  in  the  one  direction:  Excelsior! 

Then  Toker  announced  that  he  would  speak  the 
final  word,  but  first  they  would  enjoy  the  usual  inter 
mission.  This  was  employed  by  the  speakers  and 
the  audience  in  unrestrained  social  intercourse. 
Here  are  a  few  snatches  of  conversation :  — 

Bruning,  hurrying  up  to  Helmer:  —  "  Most  heart 
felt  and  respectful  congratulations,  my  young  gen 
ius!  My  old  dream  and  good  advice  are  fulfilled. 
You  have  won  her — the  pretty  heiress ;  you  snatched 
her  away  just  in  time  from  the  prince  who  was  so 
madly  in  love  with  her!  Superb!" 

"I  shall  have  to  withdraw  my  friendship  from 
you,  Franz!  You  have  a  trick  of  blighting  every 
thing  in  bloom. " 

"And  you  of  talking  in  exalted  figures.  We  shall 
not  let  our  twenty-years-old  good-fellowship  drop 
for  that !  There  have  to  be  different  kinds  of  owls ! " 

In  a  group  of  politicians :  — 

A.  "Don't  you  find  that  there  is  a  little  too  much 
preaching  of  morality  to  us  during  this  Rose- Week? 
Of  course  we  know  that  the  destinies  of  the  nations 
are  not  fulfilled  in  accordance  with  moral  laws,  that 
they  are  not  conducted  by  ethical  impulses,  but  that 
they  obey  economical  necessities. " 

442 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

B.  "Economical  necessities?  Yes,  but  not  wholly 
so.    One  is  usually  mistaken  if  one  tries  to  reduce 
complicated  phenomena  to  one  single  factor.    For 
instance:  Did  the  crusades  take  place  because  of 
economic  causes?" 

C.  "I    should   like   to   make   one   observation. 
Morality  is  nothing  else  than  the  result  of  the  rec 
ognized  conditions  of  collective  life.   When  two  or 
more  are  dependent  on  one  another,  then  the  con 
duct  which  promotes  their  welfare  is  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  a  moral  rule,  and  whatever  impedes  it  is 
proscribed  as  immoral.    The  nations  have  treated 
one   another   unlovingly   and   immorally,   because 
they  have  as  yet  no  realization  of  their  interdepend 
ence.    Have  you,  for  instance,  ever  entered  into 
any  ethical  relationship  with  the  inhabitants  of 
Mars?" 

In  the  corner  where  the  two  Russian  widows  were 
sitting  with  their  suitors,  the  marchese  whispering 
in  his  soft  fervid  Italian:  — 

"Annette,  gracious  lady,  what  have  you  done  to 
me?  The  blood  is  storming  through  my  veins  as 
if  I  were  a  boy.  I  quite  forget  my  advancing  years. 
You  can  make  me  forget  everything.  ...  I  could 
even  renounce  my  ambition  in  order  to  give  myself 
up  forever  to  the  sweet  intoxication  which  I  find 
in  your  eyes.  But  no,  just  for  your  sake  I  will  get 
as  much  glory  as  I  possibly  can.  .  .  .  The  man  who 
is  to  be  worthy  of  you  must  be  like  the  sun  in  the 
radiance  of  his  glorious  power,  the  head  that  rests 
in  your  lap  must  be  crowned  with  laurel.  You, 
madonna,  must  be  surrounded  with  splendor,  you 

443 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

must  be  raised  to  the  highest  rank  so  that  all  may 
look  up  to  you  in  worship  and  envy.  A  world  must 
tremble  before  the  man  who  trembles  before  you. 
.  .  .  There  is  no  price  which  I  would  not  pay,  no 
deed  that  I  would  not  venture,  no  multitude  that  I 
would  not  sacrifice  relentlessly,  merely  to  place  one 
more  pearl  in  your  diadem,  Monna  Anna. " 

The  little  Baltic  widow  quivered  under  this 
avalanche  of  sweet-brutal  cinquecento  phrases. 

Baron  Gaston  de  la  Rochere  came  up  and  joined 
the  group,  putting  an  end  to  this  sentimental  coo 
ing:— 

"I  have  just  arrived.  Am  I  very  late?  I  don't 
understand  the  English  and  German  speeches  and 
the  French  guests  present  are  distasteful  to  me. 
But  I  came  to  look  you  up,  for  I  must  share  my  hap 
piness  with  you.  I  have  just  received  by  the  even 
ing  mail  some  wonderful  news  from  Paris.  Just 
imagine:  things  are  coming  to  a  climax.  The  Min 
istry  —  that  bunch  of  heretics  —  has  fallen.  Per 
haps  God  will  take  his  France  under  his  protection 
again.  The  situation  is  so  threatening  that  exter 
nal  or  domestic  war  may  break  out  any  minute,  and 
this  is  the  favorable  moment  to  proclaim  royalty. 
My  friends  write  me  that  everything  is  all  ready, 
that  even  a  part  of  the  garrison  is  won  over  to  swear 
fealty  to  the  standard  of  the  king  —  in  short,  great 
events  are  impending.  The  genius  of  my  glorious 
country  has  awakened  once  more.  Of  course,  you 
already  know  all  about  these  circumstances,  Mar- 
chese  di  Rinotti?" 

"Of  course,  I  know  what  is  taking  place  and  what 
444 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

is  proposed;  but  weeks  must  elapse  before  any 
thing  decisive  can  come  about.  The  men  in  charge 
must  reckon  with  the  resistance  of  the  democratic 
parties." 

"But  the  men  in  charge  will  act  with  vigor, 
Marchese. " 

"Well,  I  hope  so,  Baron." 

"Oh,  gentlemen,"  said  Vera  Petrovna,  beseech 
ingly;  "don't  be  tedious;  pray  don't  talk  politics." 

Malhof  accosted  Franka  and  Helmer,  who,  arm 
in  arm,  were  promenading  up  and  down  the  corri 
dors.  "Am  I  interrupting  the  gushing  fountains  of 
love?  You  will  have  all  your  lives  for  that,  and  I 
must  express  my  surprise  and  delight.  I  am,  in 
deed,  a  very  old  friend  and  admirer  of  your  be 
trothed,  dear  Helmer,  and  I  have  always  desired 
her  happiness.  .  .  .  How  unexpectedly  this  came 
upon  us!  Yesterday  evening,  while  they  were  ma 
nipulating  with  radium  on  the  platform,  we  three 
sat  so  cozily  together,  and  I  had  not  the  slightest 
idea  of  your  being  a  bridal  pair.  You  played  your 
cards  mighty  well,  you  young  people!" 

"Neither  did  we  have  the  slightest  idea,"  pro 
tested  the  two  in  absolute  sincerity. 

After  the  half-hour's  intermission,  Toker  again 
mounted  the  platform  —  quite  alone ;  his  guests 
remaining  below  in  the  hall. 

i  "  It  is  my  privilege, "  he  began,  "  to  utter  the  last 
word  in  conclusion  of  this  our  Rose- Week.  I  feel 
myself  compelled  to  express  before  the  whole  world 
my  deepest  thanks  to  the  illustrious  contemporaries 

445 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

who  have  come  at  my  call.  And  I  must  also  thank 
you,  my  honored  audience,  for  the  lively  interest  and 
the  sympathetic  reception  which  you  have  accorded 
our  offerings. 

"But  let  us  end  our  cooperation  not  with  a  dis 
course,  but  rather  with  a  deed.  You  all  know  that 
a  war-cloud  pregnant  with  storm  is  rising  on  the 
horizon.  We  must  not  allow  this  well-worn  metaphor 
to  strengthen  the  current  impression  that  we  have 
to  deal  with  anything  elementary;  we  have  to  deal 
with  human  intentions,  with  the  direction  of  human 
wills.  These  can  be  paralyzed  by  counter-intentions, 
by  the  putting  forth  of  still  stronger  wills.  Such  an 
exercise  of  will-power  has  been  created  in  our  circle : 
in  order  to  make  it  efficient,  we  must  use  the  ap 
paratus  of  wide  publicity  which  is  here  at  our  ser 
vice.  Two  statesmen,  of  uncontested  reputation  in 
their  service  for  promoting  the  organization  of  peace 
in  the  Old  World  and  the  New,  have  drawn  up  a 
manifesto,  protesting  against  the  letting  loose  of  the 
war-demon  which  is  planned  in  various  quarters,  and 
at  the  same  time  pointing  out  the  way  in  which  the 
conflict  may  be  solved  in  an  amicable  manner.  This 
manifesto  has  been  signed  by  the  entire  membership 
of  the  Rose  Order,  and  at  this  moment  is  being  tele 
graphed  to  all  regions  of  the  world.  If  the  masses 
agree  to  it,  it  can  grow  into  a  hurricane  of  public 
opinion.  I  am  not  going  to  delay  you  by  reading 
the  message,  the  paper  which  will  now  be  distrib 
uted  through  the  hall  contains  its  text.  I  also  re 
frain  from  any  explanations ;  neither  shall  I  ask  you 
to  vote.  Only  this  I  will  say:  If  this  wish,  this  com- 

446 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

mand,  this  storm-cry  which  goes  forth  from  here  is 
obeyed,  that  is  to  say,  if  the  approaching  contest 
is  submitted  to  arbitration,  and  if  the  decision  by 
force  is  given  up,  though,  indeed,  this  may  not  pre 
vent  the  recurrence  of  dangers  in  the  future,  and 
not  as  yet  introduce  a  new  political  order  —  still, 
time  will  be  gained.  And  that  is  the  main  thing  in 
this  crisis.  For  in  order  to  appreciate  and  to  apply 
the  new  treasures  which  of  late  have  been  won  from 
nature,  in  order  to  cultivate  the  lofty  thoughts  to 
which  the  human  mind  has  already  begun  to  attain 
in  its  flights,  and  in  order  to  transform  in  accordance 
with  these  thoughts  the  intercourse,  the  laws,  the 
opinions  of  men,  in  a  word,  the  whole  social  life, 
time  is  above  all  required.  A  time  of  peaceful,  quiet 
development.  If  now  a  world-conflagration  should 
break  out,  the  development  would  be  not  only 
delayed,  but  would  be  set  back  enormously  —  in 
stead  of  a  lofty  flight,  we  should  have  a  terrible  fall ! 
Once  more  a  bed  for  the  stream  of  hatred  and  horror 
and  destruction  would  be  excavated,  and  this  flood 
might  carry  away  with  it  all  that  has  been  so  pain 
fully  constructed. 

"One  can  formulate  an  idea  of  the  consequences 
of  such  a  conflagration  by  hearing  what  H.  G.  Wells 
tells  us  in  his  'War  in  the  Air.'  'Oh,  a  piece  of  fic 
tion,  a  romance  of  the  future!'  Granted,  it  will  all 
come  out  differently.  No  one  can  take  account  of  all 
the  millions  of  interweaving  threads  out  of  which 
the  web  of  the  future  may  be  woven.  But  the  poet 
and  the  thinker,  if  he  creates  such  pictures,  does  not 
at  all  pretend  prophecy.  He  does  not  predict  that 

447 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

it  will  come  in  this  way  or  that :  he  only  shows  how 
under  given  conditions  things  must  come,  if  this 
way  or  that  is  chosen. 

"So,  then,  we  want  to  gain  time!  —  time  for  the 
building-up  of  future  happiness,  time  to  rescue  men 
from  the  woe  that  threatens.  Indeed,  the  majority 
will  not  listen  to  the  warning,  the  chiding,  the  aid- 
promising  voices  .  .  .  these  annoying  calls  only  dis 
turb  them  in  their  pursuits  of  business,  work,  pleas 
ure.  .  .  .  'Why  don't  the  birds  of  evil  omen  leave 
us  alone  —  let  things  take  their  course  —  what 
comes  must  come  —  merely  let  every  one  see  to  it 
that  he  does  his  work  where  Fate  puts  him'  .  .  . 
this  is  about  the  way  in  which  the  passive  resistance 
expresses  itself;  a  resistance  against  which  all  those 
who  speak  the  warning  words  constantly  stumble. 
But  they  are  not  to  be  frightened  away;  they  can 
not  help  themselves,  they  must  speak. 

" I  will  use  a  parable:  — 

"  Let  us  imagine  we  are  on  a  noble  ship  bound  for 
the  promised  land.  The  journey  is  long.  There  is 
much  work  and  much  amusement  on  board  of  the 
ship.  It  must  be  steered  and  must  be  maneuvered ; 
much  promenading  and  flirting  and  reading  and 
feasting  are  carried  on;  all  are  busy  and  each  one 
thinks  his  work  or  his  pleasures  highly  important. 

"But  the  ship  springs  a  leak.  If  help  is  not  af 
forded,  the  proud  vessel  must  sink. 

"It  would  not  be  difficult  to  get  help.  But  the 
people  refuse  to  see  the  leak.  Is  it  not  natural  that 
those  who  do  see  it  should  not  weary  in  calling  for 
help?  Is  it  not  the  height  of  unreason  that  the  others 

448 


WHEN  THOUGHTS  WILL  SOAR 

should  leave  the  leak  unheeded,  so  that  they  may 
not  be  disturbed  in  their  customary  pursuits,  and 
that  they  should  zealously  devote  themselves  to 
steering  and  clearing  the  ship  instead  of  trying  first 
of  all  to  save  it  from  sinking? 

"Our  civilization  is  such  a  ship,  my  honored  fel 
low-passengers.  Its  engines  are  working  better  all 
the  time,  its  flags  are  flying  ever  more  triumphantly, 
swelling  out  with  lofty  thoughts.  But  it  has  a  leak 
—  namely,  the  time  antiquate  regime  of  force : 
through  this  rent  annihilating  floods  pour  in  and 
threaten  to  draw  it  into  the  deep !  Therefore,  every 
man  on  board  and  all  hands  to  the  repair  of  the 
damage ! 

"And  when  that  has  been  accomplished  —  and  it 
shall  be  accomplished!  —  then  onward,  and  'happy 
voyage!'" 


THE    END 


Bitoersibe 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .    A 


• 


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